Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Moon-landing once, why go back?
the set frequency is earthbound.
Grew weary of consumerism consuming me;
they've convinced us this is the best we have
are the insecure sorrows in our hearts
the invisible creatures feed on low frequency -
so why shoot for the stars?
siren in the sky blinking a cry for help
i want to come
but sleep pulls me somewhere else
Dog Years Jan 14
So here I was, the Astronaut.
Allowed into her private outer space.
Blessed to venture above and beyond,
Finding new secrets in everyplace


Making all my stars align,
she became my new Astrology.
Leaving me, blinded and moonstruck,
As I tried to map out Destiny.
Adellebee Jul 2019
The moon is so bright tonight
The black velvet sheet of the night
is riddled with stars

Patiently waiting, for lightyears to come
For us to see the stars light fade
Until we can not wish upon them
And the sky is sure to turn to shade
moon light
Adellebee Jul 2019
When you have no pockets to put your lighters in
And your nails are too long,
You find yourself on the balcony staring off
Staring off into the night sky

That soft, deep sea blue cast across your skyline

You catch a thought,
You think,
The simple things,
A glowing read star, could be mars

The thoughts I think, Smoking on my balcony
Artemis Jun 2019
I like to lay in the cosmos;
Stardust freckling my cheeks
and hanging from my lashes,
it’s residue on my finger tips.

I dangle from the stars,
Saturns rings around my waist,
Neptunes blues in my eyes,
Jupiter’s storms in my heart.

I dream and dream and dream,
among galaxies and supernovas,
perfectly at home
in the void of space.
Meg B May 2019
Of the two lamps in the room,
my glassy eyes can only tolerate the dimmed glow
of the lower light from the right,
my face basking in the slowly rotating,
barely blowing air from the fan above me.
My face feels flushed,
but not from the semi-sticky early summer heat,
but from the fact that
every time I come back to this room,
I'm reminded of why I left.

The lawyer in me could generate a list,
pros longer than any construction of cons,
yet your name will always reverberate
in the unforgotten corners of my subconscious.

You never loved me like I did you,
and even my romanticized version of you never
saw me the way I
still feel the ghost of you.

I can still feel the crisp fall air from your balcony
and recall the albums and conversations that
complete the track list
of my unrequited love story.

Sometimes it was real,
sometimes it's real,
sometimes it's a dream,
sometimes it's a memory.

And this is the essence of you and me;
it's more questions than answers,
smoke and mirrors and
smoking to make things clearer.

I've never been the same
since you,
but I also don't know how I can ever
get over someone I never really had.

You were mine in microcosms
that were macro extraterrestrial galactic;

was it real?
were we real or
was it all [science] fiction?
Grace Spellman May 2019
i've always known
i am not from this earth
a small starseed reincarnate
embodying my sparkling ancestors
made of stardust
glitter pours out of me when i speak
the milky way lays itself out in front me
like a red carpet
begging me to cross it
it's quite lonely here
inside this human body
why doesn't anybody here
love like they did
in the stars?

take me back home.
Jade Mar 2019
I swallowed
the sound of your name
like it was a star--
five points,  
the type they
teach you to draw
in kindergarten.

It hurt
on its way down,
stalagmites of constellation
catching on my uvula,
hanging on with
astronomical strength.

But this is no cliffhanger.

Do you know what happens next?

I stopped breathing.

You've never deserved
your name,
you know.
"Light giving,"
it means.

Oh,
and how I gave into
the sublime
fallacy
of it.

Because
all you ever did was steal
the moons from my irises.

You treated me like
I was the dirt beneath
your fingernails
(you forsake
the dust on your windowsill--
but don't you know
all dust comes from
the wondrous galaxy that
dwells before us?)

I reached out to you
only to get
c u t
          o f f
at the hands

Still,
I couldn't let you
go,
didn't know how to.
Even when my flame
was reduced
to these weeping cinders,
even when the idealization
I held between my palms
found itself exiled
to this mausoleum
of severed trust,
hatred blossoming
in rosettes against
crumbling tombstones.

The epitaph reads,
"At a loss for words."

Tell me this:
what sort of
"light giver"
doesn't believe in
in the possibility of magic--
in the pinnacle of light itself?

You always thought me
a foolish girl
for dreaming--
naive girl,
silly girl,
wrists blooming
in paper cuts,
always one fairytale
away from insanity.

Until
one day,
I stopped believing
altogether.

And all it took
was a single glance
from those eyes--
glacial sapphires,
your grandest seduction.

Hell itself would have
hardened itself to tundra
at the sight of them.

You always had a way
of contaminating
the things I loved
with a frostbite so lethal,
I would have
gladly dismembered
every hypothermic part
of myself
(every fragment of soul
you ever touched).

Like a shooting star,
I fell for you--
hopelessly.

Catastrophically.

And then the heavens went
dark.
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

jadefbartlett.wixsite.com/tickledpurple

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience.)
Lady Ravenhill Jan 2019
Careful concealment,
For the need for Atonement
As the Moon claims the best of she-
Drawing her closer to the song of the Sea
Then exalted to clouds, far past the sky
Skimming the tips of the Milky Way
In his warm arms, forever lie
She only dreams those to see that day
@LadyRavenhill 2019
Next page