The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

she is made of star stuff,
the lingering effect
of supernovas
colliding
and light
thrown in every direction,
the breathtaking sight
of immortal beauty,
the kind that shines
for centuries,
only to reach a destination
that doesn't worship her
as he does the blinking planets.