People think
That just because I don’t believe
In their God
Or Gods
That I don’t believe in souls.  
As if I am restrained by something as simple
As a security blanket.  
I exist outside of God
And I do so with a soul
That no one thinks exists.  

Sometimes
When I am deep inside my head
I pretend that I can see
The souls that pass by me
Trapped within soft skin
A tiny, fluttering bird
That hides away behind bars made of bone,
The sinew cells providing a comfort
Humanity has yet to offer
To themselves.  

I see yours
Past your snow touched skin
Gently puttering around its cage
Lighting up your eyes
Until they are like the summer sky
After a thunderstorm.  
This language fails
To describe your soul,
So I shall try instead.  

Red nebulas bleed
Into darkness, twining with
The white and yellow lights of stars
Long dead, their shadows lighting up
The vast emptiness,
An emptiness dotted with blue dust
Swirling into violet clouds
Until it is not empty at all.  






You are a sun.
Nothing makes you shine
Other than yourself,
And the moon,
She borrows your light
So that she too may be seen;
So that she too may feel warm.  

Sometimes people forget
That space, while full of beauty
Is mostly nothing.
The small, scattered universes
Serving as the perfect distraction
For the loneliness
That exists in between.  

Life can spawn in the darkest of places
And you are oh so very bright –
For, hidden beneath your
Ribs, lungs, heart
Is eternity,
And you give away your galaxies
Spreading out your universes
So that you are never left traveling the void
Alone.  

Before I met you
I believed myself to be the moon
Trapped, dull, and alone.  
Then I let myself see you
Not your face, but you,
And found that yes, I am alone
But so are you
And everyone else.  
But you did not allow solitude
To  consume you
Like a black hole
marring your space,
Rather you just continued existing
Regardless.  
And I thought to myself
Why can’t I?