she feeds you stars
and you regurgitate them
up in her palms,
facing toward you
she's always holding them out
you tell yourself you
couldn't miss her;
you tell yourself she
wouldn't miss you
(and you're sure, but
that's not the point)
you tell yourself
that it doesn't matter
because for a second,
her black holes
were stars
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
she feeds you stars
and you regurgitate them
up in her palms,
facing toward you
she's always holding them out
you tell yourself you
couldn't miss her;
you tell yourself she
wouldn't miss you
(and you're sure, but
that's not the point)
you tell yourself
that it doesn't matter
because for a second,
her black holes
were stars
