neptune held my hand
with such fervor,
an icy grip that surrounded
me
with stars
and rivers of nebulas.

saturn choked me,
with shining rings
and twinkling mist
i wanted to drown myself
in the feeling.

pluto
reached through
galaxy ceilings,
invited me to the edges of
creation.

jupiter asked me
if i wanted to dance
on its diamond clouds,
a burgundy storm.

and the earth
tore at my ankles,
ripped my soles,
and swallowed my waist
until i was
here.

where
mortality
lies.

my hands are cold
and my soul is hot
burning and sputtering
with a passion for others
with a yearning to please all
but sometimes
my soul only flickers
wisps and kisses with weak heat
while other's souls lick my warmth
so i stumble
and i fall
down
but grasp a flame
of another
to aid me in the healing of my soul
but i am drowned
in a shivering ice
and told never to take from an other's soul
for i am just a supplier, and i am not allowed to take what i give
because taking is taking
and my flames wisps, a final breath
i assume i must let it go
for i am a charity and do not deserve to help myself
if taking from others is condemned
why do others take from me?

The excuse of being tired:
an avoidance of admitting depression