Oh, but your eyes,
Your eyes were galaxies,
Stars and nebulae—
A wonder to get lost in,
Wandering through constellations.

How come I couldn't find you?

She sits, a lonely soul apart,
Away from mindless faces.
Dreaming of celestial dreams,
Of far away and magical places.

Her white hair tangled in the stars.
Her heart is filled with love.
Playing with the constellations,
of the universe high above.

Who can she really talk to?
when there's no one there to share,
except for the million nebulas...
who only seem to care.

Although in her own solitude.
her mind begins to sway;
of one day another lonely soul,
to take her heart away.

If you look to the stars on a late winter night,
you’ll find they shine brighter than normal.
Although summer’s warmer and
most would rather look at the stars then,
I often find myself stepping out on December nights
to stare into the depths above,
playing connect the dots.
The thing with the sky is,
no matter how far you try to look into it,
you’ll never figure it out.
I worry I’m the same.
I’ve been looking deep inside myself for years,
trying to find the meaning to which I provide life.
I’ve been trying to figure out why the dark spots are so vast
in comparison to the light.
It was only recently that I found
that despite the dark,
despite the ever-growing black,
there were gargantuan amounts of light,
only they were smaller.
What I’ve found
is it’s the little things.
And just like the sky,
there is so much dark,
and yet so much light.
So instead of looking for the light in the sky,
I should find the light in myself.
Maybe there’s a few constellations in me, too.

On the back of a receipt written
in a language I don’t understand,
detailing a currency I don’t use,
I sketch hands holding each other.
I can’t get the fingers to intertwine
properly so I don’t know
what the point is.

The texture of your skin
that’s so impossible to catch
is just a mess of atoms like the rest of us
and it makes the cabin pressure hit my heart
a little too hard, besides.
Flying doesn’t feel very free.

Below me, streetlights flicker in alleys,
sketch out silhouettes of strangers
that could be a little frightening
but from here they resemble ursa major
twinkling,
and the continent is a pond
reflecting the sky.
Even the city gets prettier
the farther from it I get.

With all that air between us
I am the color of Orion,
neither white nor blue and not quite light,
the color of a dandelion that knows
it is a **** but hasn’t the heart
to turn away from the little girl collecting it
in a fistful of wildflowers.

And with all that air between us
and all that way to fall without you
I find that for someone who must try so hard
to want the rest of my life,
I am awfully scared of missing it.

Stars quench the thirst of my eyes
Every line and constellation on my heart I memorise  
They are the candles of the skies
And beyond them? Farther than that what there lies?

i think i see you staring at me,
  But then i turn my head and it is just a trick of the light.
The luminescent bulbs reflect off the white walls, and i wince when i hear you speak.
     A butterfly settles on my cheek.

i thought i saw you standing in the corner of my room,
  watching me sleep as my chest rises and falls with the thought that i will wake up next to you.
     But it is only a ghost i had created in order to replace you.

i hoped i would find you in my dreams.
  i did, but you were not dreaming of me.
And they say that when you dream about someone it's because they fell asleep thinking of you.
  i highly doubt that is true,
     And i don't dream during the night, much less about you.

i wish you would talk to me.
  A half of my life says that i can't trust you, because they are afraid that you will hurt me.
And the other portion of my life tells me to take chances now,
  or i won't have stories to tell to my children, or my children's children.

And if i can't reach you then i know that i am nothing more than a fragment of a broken star that is not part of your constellations.
     Because i am too far away for you to see or care about.

And I hope that someday i will be part of someone's world.
Close enough to see so they miss me when i am gone.
  But if that never happens then i will fade out rather than burn away.
     Having nothing to give, i will leave no trace.

We sleep
Beneath the tree boughs;
Beckoning brights, dancing between branches.
We rest
Underneath a canopy of suspended glitter;
A quilt of infinite fabric
Woven from inter-netted eternities.
A noiseless face
Bathed with interstellar dust
Across her freckled constellations.
A perfect cosmic cadence
Dissolving into dawn.

and she wrote poetry
listening to the moonbeams crash at her feet
while the stars exploded and died before her eyes.