I am a stargirl,
Born of the universe.
Take me home.

on my own again
because you left me

and some days
it just feels so lonely

but then i realized
this feeling isn't new

i used to feel this way
even when i was still with you

I don't know what to do anymore.
I want to excel, I want to be the best,
but every part of me feels like giving up,
like every moment is the perfect moment
to let things go.

I want to be strong.
I want to prove to myself that
I can do this,
that I'm not the kind of person
who walks away when things get hard
without even trying to take the first step,
that I am going to finish what I started.

Things are getting hard,
and it won't get easier.

I have to keep fighting, I know.
But I don't have the strength anymore.

I don't want to admit this,

but I think I need someone to help me get through.

You painted me not just on canvas
or walls but on your heart.
You gave me wings and you
are certain I will always land back
to you.

I wrote you, not just on paper
or walls but on my heart.
I gave you the power of the sun
and I know you'll shine forever.

But lately my wings can't fly
and everytime I stretch them,
all I can feel is your hands.
It hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts.

And lately, the sun hides
and everytime I look a the moon,
all I can read is
lonely.
Lonely.
Lonely.

Darling, you know we're amazing.
We create things people marvel at.

Maybe you'll paint me a picture
and maybe I'll write you a poem.
But until we finally figure out
what I mean to you and
what you mean to me,

maybe  you should keep your colors
and I should keep my words.

I, too, want to be as brave.
I, too, want to be able
to write a letter addressed to you,
to make a mixtape of all your favorite songs,
to write poems with your name written in bold,
to paint your face as vivid as it appear in my dream,
to say to your face how much you mean to me.

But I'm not.
I'm terrified.
I'm a coward.

So for now, I continue
writing prose and poetry
addressed to everyone,
hoping that maybe
it'll find its way to you.

i.* Today I went to the salon
with my friends
and we got our nails painted.

ii. I chose pink because
looked good on me.
It's my favorite.

iii. Remember when you said
you hate it and that it made
your eyes hurt then after
that, I hid every pink thing
I ever owned.

iv. I was left empty.
I felt incomplete.

v. I regretted doing that.

vi. Also today,
I passed my exam.

vii. It was a great distraction
to stop me from thinking
about it all.

She loves the things she
is afraid of and maybe
that's why she loved me.

I could just decide
to hold your hand
one day and take
you dancing once
the rain starts to fall.

I could do all that
and you would
know that I have
always loved you
even when it felt
like I never did.

I could do that,
tomorrow or now
but something is
holding me back
and this is a cliché
but it's not you,
it's me.

I am afraid
that you would
hate me for it.

I am afraid
because you
might hate dancing,
I might step on
your feet,
you might be
uncomfortable
holding someone's
hand, you
might hate getting
your clothes wet

and you will not say it,
because you don't want
to break the sad girl's heart

and that scares me.

And after all the chaos,
after the noise,
after painting the skies,
all that is left
is the quiet
and the dark.

Too bad our fireworks
don't last forever,
every moment too fast
to be captured.

But don't worry,
we'll try again next year.

I've always dreamt
of swimming as
flying in water
and I've always thought
of the sky as the ocean
and maybe in bottom
of our seas is the ceiling
of another world
and in that world,

I have wings and
I am with you.

My hands are cold but
it won't stop my fingers from
writing about us.

I was prepared to say goodbye to you,
on my birthday,
I thought the best gift
I could give to myself
and to you was
to gracefully let all of it go.

My hands were ready,
they were losing their
grip to yours.

My mouth was ready,
it knew what song to
sing to you last.

******, even my eyes were ready,
they were ready to look at you
like you spin the world
one.
last.
time.

Everything was set.

I waited before midnight,
I was planning to say it
to that extra second
that was added to the
last day of the sixth month of the year,

finally, I thought,
we'll both be free for my pincers
were never meant to
hold the water bearer.

There you were
and you were walking towards me
and you held my hands so tight
and you sang the song I fell in love with
and looked me in the eye
like I put the stars in the sky

and I wanted to let you go
but in that extra second
you held me so close,

I never want to leave.

I have very sensitive hands
because I just touched our
specimen without gloves and
my fingers are now very wrinkled
due to the formalin
and looking at it,
I was thinking if you would
still hold it even though
it's not smooth and soft anymore,
because in my chosen field,
preserved and fresh specimen
will always be present and it
will always be asked to examine,
even dissect, so my exposure to
chemicals are inevitable that
sometimes, even gloves cannot
provide protection.

Will you still hold my hand
even if it's wrinkly and rough,
even if it wasn't the same,

*even if I'm not the same?