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Mar 2021
I’d fall from heaven a thousand times
If I knew you were wishing on me like a shooting star

And I think there’s a name for that -

When you’re willing to run headfirst
Into the worst pain you’ve ever felt
So the person on the other side
Sees fireworks and believes even for a moment
That everything is beautiful.

I’d crush myself into a fine powder and sprinkle it on a windowsill
If it made you believe in pixie dust and laughing sprites
And filled you with the spirit that you were young and free and innocent.

You wouldn’t even have to know it was my heart
laying on the ground at the door,
there to wipe off all the dirt from the roads
you’ve been forced to travel alone,
before you stepped into the future

And I think there’s a name for that -

I just want to make your eyes sparkle
like remnants of the first volcanic eruption
that gave birth to the cliffs we’ve danced upon
like edges aren’t permanent
And our bodies aren’t temporary -

I just want to be a thing that makes this heavy world you wear like a fashionable coat
And not the strait jacket it feels like to me,
A little lighter, a little easier;

I want to be a thing with my back pushed against the walls
Straining to keep them even an inch further away
So that life is a little more spacious for you,
And you have the room to take deeper breaths -

And I do not mind if you don’t know it’s me who’s falling from great heights
To be your shooting star,
because it’s not about me at all -

It’s about giving your wishes a chance to come true,
And the willingness to crash and burn and do it again and again
Until the universe takes pity and starts listening and makes it happen.

And I think there’s a name for that -

This is me with my heart in the chamber
And my lips on the trigger
Giving you my best shot.
I hope you see me falling across the sky
Just for you
And I hope you make a wish on me
And I hope I figure out
By the time I hit the ground
How to make your wish come true.

And I think there’s a name for that-

And if it’s not
What I think it’s called,
It’s still yours regardless.
For her
Cait Harbs
Written by
Cait Harbs  Gotham City
(Gotham City)   
157
       Patrick, ap, South by Southwest and Gaia
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