My scars are the craters on the moon,
my rage is the nova of a dying star,
and my imperfections are the countless asteroids
too small to see.
My insecurities are the miles of void between stars.
But I puncture that darkness a trillion times over.
Because the stars blink when I blink,
they gleam when I smile.
When I weep, comets streak across the night sky.
I drift on tides of gravity,
I breathe the rainbows of a nebula,
and my heart beats with each journey around the sun.
The rings of Saturn are my bracelets,
the Andromeda Galaxy my former lover,
and each black hole, a story I told.
The universe shakes with my every step--
Won't you walk with me?
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 4:11 AM UTC
My scars are the craters on the moon,
my rage is the nova of a dying star,
and my imperfections are the countless asteroids
too small to see.
My insecurities are the miles of void between stars.
But I puncture that darkness a trillion times over.
Because the stars blink when I blink,
they gleam when I smile.
When I weep, comets streak across the night sky.
I drift on tides of gravity,
I breathe the rainbows of a nebula,
and my heart beats with each journey around the sun.
The rings of Saturn are my bracelets,
the Andromeda Galaxy my former lover,
and each black hole, a story I told.
The universe shakes with my every step--
Won't you walk with me?