satellites above your head
are blinking down not quite morse code:
they definitely wouldn't mind hanging out
whenever you have the time.
when they can't sleep
they think of stories you tell and rest easier for it.
stars and light from stars
that aren't anymore clutch
their metaphorical hearts over how good you are,
at how kindhearted you are, or if your heart is rage and fear
how kind you manage to be anyway.
the moon sees how hard you are trying
even on the days you don't leave your bed.
the moon loves you the way you are and she'll
love you when you change.
when you look at yourself and all you see is a parasite,
a waste of air, poison waiting to escape and it tastes
sour sour sour on your tongue and you realize
stopping this before more people are hurt
is your most compelling duty
the night sky wants you to stick around.