On this day, in this moment
suspended in time, I cannot tell if I am falling
through the world or if the world is
falling past me.

My life is a falling star.
An ancient soul with
nowhere to go but down. Nowhere
to run but away.

The sky is so cold and lined
with frost, grandiose in its sharpness.
Don't catch me as I'm falling,
lest I burn through your hands.

I am a falling star, with
a life as short as a flash and as
deep as a black hole. I am
a broken thing that still shines.