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pennythepoetPoems
We are not made of stars, I don't know why you told me that Would it have made a difference if we were? To be flaming ***** of combusted gas Temperate and voatile Already, that's how we exist... So would it really have changed us? (I think not) Do you really think of me that way? Combustible...unpredictable in every way (Possibly not even there anymore) Radiating your world from far away So far... You wouldn't notice if I disappeared Do you truly think we're made of stars? (It's not as romantic as you think) Honestly, I view us more as a sunset If we're going to talk atmosphere The pinkish kind that melts and blends Into the dark bruise of night sky We mix and evolve into something atramentous Something tantalizingly morbid But our morbidity shall not keep Us from living free and happy Because, eventually, the sun rises And brightens our venomous palors Sweetens the berries of our tender youth (Though not so young anymore) You never say the right things anymore Lucky you. You have me. (And I'll never let you go) Star dust and all.
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Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 1:48 PM UTC
To Be Made Of Sky And Stars
We are not made of stars, I don't know why you told me that Would it have made a difference if we were? To be flaming ***** of combusted gas Temperate and voatile Already, that's how we exist... So would it really have changed us? (I think not) Do you really think of me that way? Combustible...unpredictable in every way (Possibly not even there anymore) Radiating your world from far away So far... You wouldn't notice if I disappeared Do you truly think we're made of stars? (It's not as romantic as you think) Honestly, I view us more as a sunset If we're going to talk atmosphere The pinkish kind that melts and blends Into the dark bruise of night sky We mix and evolve into something atramentous Something tantalizingly morbid But our morbidity shall not keep Us from living free and happy Because, eventually, the sun rises And brightens our venomous palors Sweetens the berries of our tender youth (Though not so young anymore) You never say the right things anymore Lucky you. You have me. (And I'll never let you go) Star dust and all.
pennythepoet
Written by
pennythepoet
24/F/American
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 1:48 PM UTC
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