i don't remember what it's like to be
fifteen or fourteen or thirteen or twelve;
i don't remember what it's like to be petals,
stomped upon, sometimes i don't remember
what it's like to exist before today,
anything other than otherworldly.

i started thinking in terms of galaxies and
solar systems where there should be dirt and
rain and i've tried to keep grounded with a
garden and with flowers but they all died; i
wasn't made for this.

there's probably a little bit of earthly me
waiting to be unlocked but i've lost(swallowed)
the keys and there's probably a little bit of
supernova me waiting to be unlocked but the
keys are on the top shelf (i am very short).
there is a whole lot of in-between me just hanging
around and i don't know how i feel about that.

she told me the world would be darker without me
but i have never been a star. i have always been
a planet. a comet. dust. maybe she is a dreamer,
maybe she is seeing something i cannot. i guess
all stars started out as something else.