Here you are again,
sitting on your bed,
but it seems this time I see the sea running down your face coming from the holes where the universe lies, and the galaxies sit.
Words fly across the room,
self destructing.
Explosions like super novas,
caused by accumulated energy and increasing gravitational pressure.
You collapse. With nothing but a light that outshines any star in your wake. 

Pause. 
Take a deep breath. Breathe in all the stardust that surround you.

Stop. 
Don't even think that you're lesser than these galaxies, for you create them by merely smiling. 

Go. 
Crank up that hyperdrive,
and blast off to another solar system,
learn new things,
teach yourself to once again fall in love,
like learning to ride a bike,
but always remember the constellations that are burned into your eye lids.
Reminding you not to pass through astroid fields.

Remember this,
when you feel like your oxygen is running low don't hesitate in plugging your tubes into my lungs,
and I will breathe into you all the reasons why I love you.

Know this,
that your mistakes are like the stars that glimmer at night,
they may seem like they're just floating there constantly ,
but know this,
that just like these star, they are nothing but phantom lights, 
They no longer exist.

But don't compare me to any of them,
for I am like the moon.
You may see me clearly at night But I am not a phantom light,
I am always here,
like the moon in early hours of the morning. 

baby, 
As much as I like you learning and experiencing new things
Don't forget that I am back here on earth, 
I wanna let you know that, 
I miss you.

I miss your long black hair,
and how it stretches like the vastness of space.
Your face that shines like the morning sun.

I will be here,
 
stirring your favorite cup of hot cosmos,
with a few pieces of comets because I know you don't like it too hot. 

Waiting to hear your stories of adventure, and wanting to go back to them.

It may take lightyears for you to come back, but I will be patient.

I will be here, 

Waiting for your arrival.

Signed, 
Houston.

Her ballet shoes still hang
outside my bedroom door.
I see them every morning,
before my work at the store.

As my car cuts and cruises,
through the country's autumn streets,
My mind slowly wanders
to a harsh, wooden seat.

The judge's decision was irrevocable,
my wife left with everything.
I last saw her ride a taxi, tossing
to the sewers, our wedding ring.

Work is always such a challenge
when my customers just stare.
They know how harsh it was,
but they don't really care.

The judge's decision was irrevocable,
my wife left with everything.
She even took our daughter,
that precious little thing.

As my car cuts and cruises,
through the country's autumn streets,
My mind slowly wanders
to my daughter's little feet

Her ballet shoes still hang
outside my bedroom door.
They once were used for dancing,
but not anymore.