I am the person you know who is plagued by bad luck,
the one whose universe fights to make him miserable,
the down-on-his-luck altar to an unknown god.
I don’t know who you are or what you do
but I know you don’t care about what happens to me,
we are strangers clinging on to foreign ideals,
writing words that have lost all meaning.

You thought you invited me over out of your own volition
but I was just drawn by the light of a happier place.
Every time I go past your home, nothing but darkness,
barely a memory has lingered since you left,
too busy chasing comets through the cosmos
to worry about a silly little creature like me.
I might invite myself to your eternity,
drawn by the light of your supernova soul.