You once told me that you’ve always wanted to be an astronaut.
An explorer of the galaxy, an adventurer of the universe.
You said that there’s so much wonder and beauty
that the great beyond holds ;
That beyond our world was something
indescribable and phenomenal.
You told me that you wanted to be an astronaut
to see perfection beyond what’s within reach,
when all this time all you had to do was take a look at yourself.
Your wonderful and amazing self
that not even the entire universe could match.
Stop looking out and look in
because to me, you’re more stunning than any constellation.

A lump of eminence
Swells in her throat,
But she swallows it down
Flashing a shiny, humble smile.
This wild dandelion grows in the sun
and dances to the beat of the wind,
Scattering seeds of peace
And songs of love
In every corner of the world.
She floats among the stars
Crashing perfectly into
Every illustrious constellation.
As she shakes the stardust from her hair
And dusts her glitter-speckled shoulders,
She reaps the benefit
Of her selfless, meaningful offerings.

I'd love to point you out
In the constellation of a crowd
As someone I used to know
A lover of long ago
And nothing more

Yet you were the biggest star
The sun at least
So how would I forget you

From black to thinning darkness brings
a golden fire,
a ring of brightness amidst the grey,
unhinged jaws,
iridescence.
I grow and grow, unlike tree, unlike living beast,
like a mountain, cold and unmoving.
I rumble like a volcano, a laugh to rival the Gods'.
They make creation,
I make destruction.
I form chaos with my claws, rip richness from earth,
from open graves, from open ribs.
I drink the body's wine, dripping from lips, sizzling on skin.
Smoke rises, obscures slitted eyes.
Serpens, adored;
a symbol.
Emblazoned, glittering,
golden against the silken sky of night.
Out from thinning black, the light of the sun.

A white room hues ocean blue as the sun rises, with a ceiling that screamed to be stared at on another sleepless night. But I continue to see her face like a constellation, and I grow weary, and I grow lonely.
These stars don't shine down on me, in spite of how beautiful they glow; they stared in a most disconcerting way. And I cannot wish upon them, I can only stargaze, and hope that someday they'll no longer gaze back.

I am a constellation
A baffling creation of unintentional art
A random selection of cells
That form no shape, no being

I am the outline in a child's activity book
Connect the dots
An undrawn picture
Of a previously imagined individual

We humans make pictures with the stars
We draw lines between the dots
We create pictures of the things we are familiar  with
Assuming one leads to two
Defining vast and undesigned constellations into images material possessions
Based only on their locations

I have been tracing the lines between the numbers
Drawing pictures of myself in the sky
Trying to define myself in a human way
Trying to find enough of myself to fill the outlines laid down for me

I cannot find the pieces
I cannot fit the shapes
The rigid lines between the stars
Drawn on your human map
Do not fit my soul
And cannot be filled with my mind
Too much and not enough simultaneously

I cannot be your connect the dot
I cannot find the proper path to the image you created of me
Cannot draw or walk or be the lines
You painstakingly wrote out for me to trace

For the lines you drew do not truly exist
You drew them there to make the inexplicable scattering of dots and stars more comprehensible
You wanted the Galaxy to be graced with familiarity

I am not familiar
I am simply a random selection of cells
Simply the dots
Simply the stars
With no images or meanings