The stars
The moon
Leading me back to you

The sun
The trees
Unleashing my soul to be free

Is it too much to ask for respect towards eachother?
Is it too much to accept eachother for who he or she is?
Is it too much to ask to stop all the namecalling and to stop making fun of people about their looks?
Is it too much to just treat eachother in a normal way?
I'm not the best-looking, cutest, funniest, most interesting guy, I found that out a long time ago.
And just when I reach the point of loving myself just a little bit, someone comes and knocks the foundation from right under me.
Is it really too much to help eachother build a foundation, instead of breaking it down?

I tried to stop it once, but I failed.
I tried to dry them once, but I failed.
Because of you, I greatly failed.
And no worse a failure can be than I.

I have failed to stop my pen from
       continually bleeding your name.
*And I failed to dry these pages,
       soaked in thoughts of you.

You've always been forgetful

You'd forget to turn the lights off
You'd forget to close the toothpaste
You'd forget your clothes in the drier
You'd forget to charge your phone
You'd forget to feed the fish
...

So I did all these things for you

You see, I was convinced that showing you was better than telling you
But you never saw it, now did you?

- Sometimes I'd forget to do all these things on purpose,
so I would remember how it felt like to be with you -

I secretly hope that you can't find your clothes
and your fish die
and your electric bill reaches a 100 billion dollars

Just so you could see
that I was good for you

You know what? No.  __
NO, NO
NO

I do secretly hope that your phone dies
and your clothes get lost
and your fish die
and your toothpaste gets dried up

But only so you could learn the importance of what I used to do
to recognize your faults
and to try and improve, not for me
but for you.

... and I'm not talking about the toothpaste here

You can't demonstrate the change you want to see in someone
if they don't even understand the error in their ways

and so,

I don't want to be the person
who struggles to forgive and forget

I want to be the person
who lives with no regret

knowing that us, ending,
was for the best.

and the best
of each of us

'O Jesus Christ! I'm hit,' he said; and died.
Whether he vainly cursed, or prayed indeed,
The Bullets chirped - In vain! vain! vain!
Machine-guns chuckled, - Tut-tut! Tut-tut!
And the Big Gun guffawed.


Another sighed, - 'O Mother, mother! Dad!'
Then smiled, at nothing, childlike, being dead.
       And the lofty Shrapnel-cloud
       Leisurely gestured, - Fool!
       And the falling splinters tittered.


'My Love!' one moaned. Love-languid seemed his mood,
Till, slowly lowered, his whole face kissed the mud.
       And the Bayonets' long teeth grinned;
       Rabbles of Shells hooted and groaned;
       And the Gas hissed.

Others promised
to fill your eyes
with stars. Only stars.
But I will populate
your mind with galaxies,
complete the space
with swirling clouds
of asteroids and
black holes to swallow
your sadness. After all,
stars are obviously bright
and beautiful, but alone.
I will help to discover
somewhere within yourself
the need to create
constellations of us,
where our myths
and morals intertwine.
You and I and our
moments, syzygy.
Gravity only exists,
so we can fall together
but still weightless
to see that our mass
doesn’t affect our matter.
How stars collapse
under their own weight,
fading out, is so unlike
the way we expand
amongst the cosmos,
heavenly bodies of ours
joining the rest in the halo,
interstellar where I will
cascade over you, a pulsar
radiating waves of energy.
These shockwaves form
a singularity of us,
with no time or direction
but we know what we are;
a meteor shower for those
still simply Earth bound.
Gazing into the sun, they
promised stars, blinded.
Blinding, our explosion
of formation from nothing.
Let there be planets
where beings flourish
and evolve, and I will
gift you their moons,
the craters filled with
dust of my words hidden
where no winds can
ever disturb them.
They promised you
stars, so you can become
a satellite and orbit
and worship their light.
I will give myself,
a supernova, and you
will learn to craft galaxies
so I can explore them
within you, and revel at
the beauty of the unknown.
Our universe won’t fit
in their telescopes.


**V. K.