She paces around the room
The fresh marks on her skin
Are crimson in the light
The needles of Time ***** her
Leaving bruises on her skin
She stares up at the ceiling
The whiskey glass half empty
The 'medicine' wasn't helping
She's broken,messed up,an outcast
But what you don't know
Is that annie is short for anxiety.

I stare at you
Your iridiscent sweater
The azure sky reflecting in your eyes
But I also notice
The ice on your lips
And in your heart.

I trace out the stars
On the map
Trying to find you in them
But I realise that you
Will never be found on the map
Because
Your constellation
Is the brightest
Amongst the others.

Please don't leave me.
Please don't leave.
Please don't.
Please-

Love
Is scarce
Either you send that girl away
Or you go yourself.

i met you in a bookstore,
you ordered coffee,
and we talked about the beauty of literature,
but mostly about comic books.

you said that we were superheroes,
under the glasses, the frizzy hair,
that we were something special,
and i started to believe you.

you told me that the first rule of being a superhero,
was that we were not to use capes.
so i thought, okay, no capes,
and we were one with the tapestry of the sky.

then like all superhero tragedies, you left,
your mask along with the crimson rose,
your stone still there,
a painful reminder of what was not there.

now i work alone,
teaching others how to bring hope in the secular age,
by teaching them the first rule: no capes.

when i was younger
i used to toss paper planes
into the air
now when i toss myself into the air
i see myself as a paper plane
once caged,now free.

my hair falls onto my pillow
the night sky spilling
onto the blank canvas
i gaze at the plastic stars
the light dim from the dead stars
not as bright as the moon.

Not as bright as you.