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audrey Oct 2015
i hear sobs through the paper thin walls,
i feel the grief swimming
in my veins,
the lit cigarette filled
with nicotine and
chemicals, i inhale.
filthy tobacco
smoke clouds my mind,
blocking the colours
of violet of these bruises,
i exhale.
i look out the opened window, seeing a horizon
of stars and constellations,
constantly battling.
the moon, shining oh
so bright;
i stare at it, with
wisps of sadness
and despair
hoping someone,
somewhere,
will look back.
I could have drawn constellations
with the dots on your skin,
but you made me write a goodbye
letter instead.
I sink deep into your eyes
There I found
An ocean of flaming bright lights
Infinite galaxies to explore
More and more reasons for me to adore
You and your stars
The universe and its crimes
And how they connect with mine



-Constellations, Margaret Austin Go
heather leather Oct 2015
you painted the moon on my hips drew constellations with
your eyes on my arms and whispered the word pandemonium in
my ear as asteroids exploded and as orbits formed
i drew the color blue on your fingertips and orange in the
corner of your smile and spelled the word requiem onto your
lips because i knew this wasn't going to last
we lived our love in the sky and memorized the names of
stars that were bound to die and last words we used to live
she spoke the language of the sun and i didn't understand
you spoke the language of wrecked love and made our
masterpiece a work of forbidden art

(h.l.)
"Milky Way's "Methuselah" --The Oldest Known Star of Our Galaxy"
Pep Sep 2015
Just know
       that wherever our worlds revolve to,
yours was part
             of the constellations guiding me home.
Like the stars,
       your light was a phantom of something
  I never actually knew,
                though it penetrated my heart so.
Posting some stuff that was removed by accident.
my heart is made of scattered stars
glowing bright with their intent.

the constellation beautiful from afar
until the darkness comes.

Collapse is all there is.

the sweeping desolation.
shadows of once-brilliant celestial bodies
buried deep inside a shell with a
devastated soul.

my heart is made of scattered stars
that fold under pressure of
Love. Passion. Finality.
but when one star dies
the rest burn brighter
in the absence of its light.
Meteo Aug 2015
Two birds flying at night crash into each other
and as they spin falling from a cloud of feathers and starlight
they are reminded of a time before they learned how to fly...

Will we fold into each others secrets
would we fit each other like a spoon
won't you take my hand and chase stars with me

we'll catch them if they fall
and bury them in the backyard of our childhood dreams
so we can always find our way back there

Chase the shoreline
fly with a flock of airplanes
we'll signature the moon
as we dance our footprints upon the clouds

swim with me through an ocean of bed sheets
and Sunday mornings
and we'll chase dinosaurs from our bedroom

The warmest place in the world is next to you
let me sip coconuts in your arms
won't you plant my name behind your tongue
that it may bloom in a garden of your smiles

We'll find a beach to name after our children
and serenade the ocean as it refuses to stop kissing the shore
we'll use toothbrushes as tuning forks

fake a limp at new years eve and ride the elevator to the highest floor
and dance with me above the skyline

'cause if you sing me a lullaby of forgiveness
I will keep you from all the broken promises
we can finger paint sunrises on each other skin

Be orphans with me
so that we can name each other
the way we once named the stars
as if the constellations held the promise
we could find our way home
cyanide skies Aug 2015
i like to start off poems
with a sort of unsettled sometimes
because the absence of strict time progression
seems more abstract.
but maybe i
with my broken keys
stuck without caps lock
should maybe realize
that seeming more abstract
isn't the point.
i like to start off poems
with a sort of unsettled sometimes
because i can't immediately come to grips
with the sort of starry wording
i need to describe the way the constellations
align in my heart, only sometimes
*all the time
**
mk Aug 2015
like constellations in the night sky,
the freckles on your cheeks
will guide me *home
// lights will guide you home & ignite your bones, i will try to fix you //
Just between you and me,
I'd rather be a saint than a poet...

But to see the world like this:

A huge, shining consonant, lying on its side,
over the very ordinary clothesline,
well,
that's something, isn't it?
©Elisa Maria Argirò
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