A lone voice calls out
Never reaching the stars
Left floating in frigid space
On a blind, infinite journey
Rejection

Nearby are others
Insults are constant gifts
Thrown like red meteorites
And suffocating nebulas
Rejection

Even the cruel pain
Ripping mercilessly
A black hole ******* souls in
Ruthless strength conquers everything
Rejection

Sympathy I feel for those who haven’t seen what I’ve seen, and for those who have felt what I’ve felt. The embodiment of my regret, shining with all the light once saved me, now engulfs me in torment of my mistake. As I orbit in harmony with the rotation of a green star, that is much more than just a green star, I ponder what my life would be if I still had my green star. I know that in time, this green star that means everything and more to me, will collapse and perish, but we will only be able to see the star frozen in time, that very instant before it collapsed, desperately clinging to one single moment. I still cling to that moment, the moment I saw my soul break free from the chains that I thought would hold me down perpetually, in her eyes. I don’t quite know how it happened, I wasn’t looking for it, I wasn’t on the make, it was the perfect storm, I said one thing, she said another, and the next thing I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my days in the middle of that conversation. It’s painful to admit that I ruined the most precious friendship I’ve ever had, which tends to sting more when she was the only genuine friend I’ve ever had. I prefer solidarity most of the time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t long for a companion every now and again, but lately that desire grows stronger and stronger, holding on to the memory of the companion I once had and lost. My life on Earth, my past life, would be considered prosperous; I was one of the top aerospace engineers in the world, which is a very time consuming and painstaking practice, but exploring the unknown territories of the universe had always been my passion. I didn’t have much of a family, my mother and father passed away when I was 22 years old, and my brother and I severed ties shortly after the death of our parents, and I had not desire nor time for a significant other, let alone the willingness to dedicate my life to another person. I always believed that I embodied the definition of misplacement, I never seemed to fit in any particular group of people, nor with any other person, really, I enjoyed getting lost in the sea of my thoughts, riding the waves, pondering ideas, asking questions that can only be answered in theory, which essentially renders me incapable of interacting with others. However, being your own best friend can sometimes lead to psychotic thoughts of self-loathing, and eventually the last straw broke the backbone of my perseverance, and I convinced myself to commit suicide. Originality and pretentiousness ****** me, demanding myself to end my life a way no one else’s life has ended, and my imagination spiraled into a storm, brainstorming my own demise. My most recent endeavor at the time was to manufacture a personal bubble that would sustain in space, and condensing a spaceship into the size of a smart car was the threshold between my pathetic life of this planet, and self-destructive glory. After a year of an extremely unhealthy intensity of research, my talisman of my soul, my most cherished invention, my cosmic coffin. I traveled from my home in Anchorage to the highest point in Alaska, Mount McKinley, and inserted my body comfortably inside my space bubble and proceeded to ascend into my eternal salvation, ascending towards achievement of my life’s dream, ascending the edges of space, where no human has ever occupied in history. The butterfly feeling in my stomach, caused by the sheer joy I felt, is probably the closest feeling I had ever felt at the time to true love, the irony of my affection for death. As I slipped past our atmosphere and found myself floating closer towards the stars and planets, I sat down and enjoyed the galactic show of entropy before me, and after a while the visual melody put me in a hypnotic state, and before I knew it I was being stated down by a saucer shaped spaceship with luminous blue lights encompassing the round edge of the ship. I felt my capsule gravitating towards and entering the ship through a small hole on the underbelly of its structure, that appeared to look like a portal. As I passed through the light I was being observed by a feminine looking blue creature, with bright green eyes that sparkled like emeralds in the moonlight, and long, luscious blonde hair, straight and smooth as silk. She was tall, which I realized as I stood up out of my capsule, about an inch taller than my six foot frame, with long, skinny fingers and decently big webbed feet, and a long slender tail hanging down from her backside that wasn't quite long enough to touch the ground. She had shiny, scaly skin that had a deceptive rough appearance in texture, but felt soft and smooth when her hand reached out to embrace mine, and she said, "Hello, I am called Elora, what are you called?" Still in shock, the only awkward response I muttered was, "Eric" and she asked, "Why are you here Eric?" As I regained my quick wit I declared, "Does anyone know why they're here?" She smiled, exposing her sharp white teeth and proposed, "Well, you can help me find out." I think it had something to do with the adrenaline rush caused by the mystery and uncertainty of the situation, but I caught myself grinning, I didn't even realize I was smiling, it was an odd, unfamiliar feeling, but I was madly attracted to this blue angel from the stars. I spoke to her about my life on Earth, and my elaborate suicide plan, and she explained to me that she abandoned her home planet Eridani to conduct galactic research, and that she was from the Altair race. She elaborated on how life on Eridani did not satisfy her, and that she would spend her life roaming around nebulas, exploring galaxies, researching stars, and documenting her experiences. She showed me a star that she claims as hers, a green star called Zohra, which was her favorite star because she said she could only feel happiness when looking at it, to which I said, “It reminds of your eyes” and she looked at me and seemed flattered. She loved that star, her eyes lit up brighter than the star itself when she would stare at it, hypnotized at the sight of it, which I cared little to notice because I couldn’t look away from her. I couldn’t quite understand how someone could be so invested in something like that, something that just sits there spinning and spinning, peacefully participating in the orchestra of the universe. I think she was so fascinated by this object because she felt the same disconnect from others of our kind. The lonely, outcast feeling connected us, ironically, and we carried on intriguing conversation for what felt like an eternity, and I only wish that conversation could've lasted longer. I found in Elora what I had not found in any human being, she understood me, to the point where I was convinced she had mind reading abilities, and her understanding me didn’t diminish her interest in me, like what usually happened to me on Earth. I found happiness in her company, I found salvation in her embrace, I found unparalleled beauty inside and out, and I found myself in our friendship.  As time slowly rolled on my affection for Elora grew increasingly unbearable, and eventually the realization dawned upon me that I had to inform Elora of my feelings for her. We were accelerating towards the Crab Nebula, and I noticed the blurred blue light in the center, wrapped around by streams of red and yellow light, holding the blue heart in the center together. Elora was to me what the red and yellow streams were to the integrity of the Crab Nebula, without those streams, without Elora, my soul would fall apart and disburse, just like the blue light in the center of the Crab Nebula. When I turned, looked her square in her eyes, her gorgeous eyes that were accented by the light emitting from the Crab Nebula, those eyes that pull you in and leave you in a trance, those eyes that display the beauty of nature condensed into two little spheres that seemed to effortlessly gaze inside my soul, breaking down every single wall that I have ever built up to hide myself from other people, and uncover everything I so desperately attempted to hide deep down, and I said to her, “You are the only reason I’m still alive, the only reason I still want to live, the only other soul that accepted my lost, broken soul, you are the most amazing, most beautiful creature born from the stars we now roam around, I tried to die to see what heaven is like, but heaven can wait, because there is nothing more I want than to be with you until the day my soul slips away from my body, I am madly in love with you Elora.” I poured my heart and soul out to her, bleeding out every ounce of passion and love and sophistication to her, exposing every bit of my emotions, leaving me naked and defenseless before her. Different scenarios raced around my head about how she would respond, and she glanced down at the ground, looked back up at my blank face, and she said, “My people do not love, we do not believe in love, and we cannot love. Love, no matter how polarizing it may seem, always fades in time, everything fades in time, love fades in time, ideas fade in time, you will fade in time, I will fade in time, in the end, nothing is perpetual.” My heart sank down into my stomach, and right at that moment I grasped the idea of why they call it “falling in love” because I landed harder than I could even fathom, I did not know that such powerful emotional sorrow could physically hurt so bad. I dropped down to one knee, and the streams of tears ran from my face and splashed down on the ground, like delicate little glass beads shattering as they made contact with the surface, shattering like my heart and soul. The pure agony and embarrassment of staying with the love of my life, whom I had just made an absolute fool of myself in front of, was enough to crush any man’s esteem, so the only rational option I could think of was bail towards my space bubble, and go as far away as I possibly could from the light that saved me. With every inch of separation between her and I, my heart and soul grew sour and stone cold, and new theories to rationalize my reaction and actions that followed. As a child I went to an amusement park, and I was particularly frightened of a certain attraction that lifted you straight up, a couple hundred feet, and dropped you straight down, and now I realize that my fears of love are comparable to this ride. I was so mortified by the ascension, which precedes love, that I could never enjoy the thrill of the fall, even though this time the safety harness didn’t soften the landing. I came to the conclusion, after years of thought, that I could not blame Elora, it was who she was and there was nothing she could do to change that, and instead of accepting the fact that she did not love me, I cowardly abandoned the only thing in my life that I gave a **** about, I ran away from the only other being in the universe that could make me smile the way she made me smile. After years of solidarity and self-loathing I realized that I would much rather spend my life with Elora, even if she didn’t love me, as opposed to regressing back to my lonesome life, only surrounded by a vast, more captivating scene. The only reason I am still alive is because I have not given up hope that one day I will find Elora again, and I will beg for her forgiveness, and hopefully I will be able to cherish every precious moment I spend with her. I solemnly believe that the slim chance will occur that I will once again see that face, gaze into those eyes I once did, and curse my old self for being foolish enough to leave her. I am not certain, but I can only hope that she is at least indifferent to encountering each other once again, but if she denies me I cannot blame her, because after all it is my fault for my impulsive escape. But for now I wander as a nomad amongst the stars that form constellations that all remind me of Elora, watch the planets rotate, and reminisce on the time we shared together, the time I took for granted, time that I consider to be the most precious moments of my life’s experience. I spend most of my time roaming around Zohra, which was where she and I parted ways, in hopes that one day she will return to her favorite star, to find me right there waiting for her, however patience has not served me well, and my actions which I so deeply regret caused her to abandon the star which she claimed as hers, the star that radiated happiness upon her, the magnificent star that embodied her in beauty and essence, to avoid the thought of me leaving her, which is justifiable because she was probably very flustered by me scrambling to leave her after my episode. I rotate around Zohra, observing its physical qualities, seeing Elora’s face every single time I look upon its surface, but one day the light exiting the pores of the planet grew significantly brighter, and Zohra began rotating and shaking at a phenomenally fast speed, and I witnessed Zohra swallow itself in a supernova, creating a black hole. I interpreted this to represent the death of the hope I had to once again see Elora, or maybe time had taken her like time had taken her beloved star. I allowed myself to succumb to the irresistible force from the black hole, and the death of hope I had to once more see the angelic face of my love, swallowed my space bubble and my hollow body occupying it, to the point of no return, where I can no longer regret what I had done to her, because in time, my love for her destroyed me.

There were galaxies in your eyes and skeletal constellations connecting your blazing white bones the comets from your eyes continued to fall you couldn't see what I could because of the exploded nebulas that created too dense of breathtaking  stardust so you thought you were just a terrifying black hole you made yourself bleed stars you said to not get close because you ****** up light and happiness when really it was you creating it

flesh is nothing but a plastic cover
and if you s t r e t c h it far enough
the seams begin to rip, hovering
a guideline instead of a fence

a tongue is nothing but a stretchy strawberry
and if you cut it clean in half
the seeds disperse, swearing
to rearrange the words into normal speech

the brain is nothing but playdough
and if you let it mold
the pink uncoils, forgetting Plato
remembering nothing

the smile is nothing but a bunch of ugly mirrors
and if you rip them out by the roots
the spotlights reverse, it only gets worse
and you stare at your self-destruction for eternity.

The nebulas danced a twisted waltz, leaving a dusting of themselves behind after every step. White painted onto black, and then green, and purple, and all the colors of the rainbow into the sky, and the ballad wailed out its long notes as the song crescendoed into oblivion. Notes jumped up, adding brush strokes of stardust onto the azure of the absent canvas. A celestial battle was beginning, varnishing the open vault with beautifully broken carcasses and fingerprints forever to be seen. Each movement, every fractional breath, leaving a trail of stars and color and galaxies for worlds to gaze upon in wonder. Swords unsheathe and blood is finally drawn, dripping into elliptical formations, and hardening over stars. Asteroids are hurtled through the expanse in a way of symphony, in a way of ballet. The horrifying back and forth blending to something magical, creating an order from chaos, forming patterns in the dark. And suddenly the anthem comes to a ****** and stars are expanding and dissipating, leaving nothing in its place. And instead of new cruel masterpieces being added to what was once there, everything around gets pulled in, into the nothing until nothing becomes everything. The symphony swirls around in circles, adding bits of blackness between the blinding light, and soon the universe is following suit. As the closing notes ring out, the cosmos revolve and whirl and dance, they simply dance to the crestfallen fantasia as it cries out its call for help one final time.

Across
mountain
peaks
like
the
spikes
of your
hair
my fingers
brush,
careening off
glaciers
and sliding
down hidden
slopes.
Curved and
crossed
as the bones
in your spine,
smooth
and
strong
like
the
gliding
wings
of
a hawk.
The tawny-colored
feathers
echoed
in each
iris.
A look,
haunting.
Chills
and
weightlessness
invade
my body
curled
next
to yours
in perfect
sync
to your
heartbeat.
Where
waterfalls
overflow
our emotions
capsizing
our lonely
individual
vessels
amid galaxies
colliding
each
other
on a
spiraling
journey
of
passion.
The heat.
Bronzer
than the
sun in
Summer.
My love.
My moon
and
my stars.
My one
and
only.
Just
two
out-there
planets
together
forever.
Undiscovered,
untarnished,
undefiled
by humanity.

A secret whisper
from
the
nebulas…

*I
   love
            you….

Sensual ripples,
Deeming sole existence,
Within embracing arms.

Eyes meet,
A gaze that says all,
Vocal words insignificant.

Lips reconvene,
Nebulas of love,
Amends made for lack
Of past recognition.

She has a bruise on her left knee
reminiscent of science-book nebulas,
and the veins reaching into her palm
look like the ivy vines wrapped around
the old oak at the end of my grandmother’s

driveway. But as she presses contacts into each eye,
her pupils dilate and contract like a camera
lens shifting to accommodate for motion
blurry as her unaided vision, and her wrists
crack as if made of ill-fitted cogs chipping away--

both a tempest-tide and midnight snowfall,
yet the sum of neither.

Let me daydream in this cosmic abyss,
and lose myself in its magic and bliss.
For in the space between stars and dreams,
anything is possible, vivid as it seems.
I dream of planets with oceans of gold
and moons with mountains that are extremely cold;
of nebulas that paint the sky in hues,
and black holes that swallow entire views.
Beneath the stars, a deep vast ocean lies,
teeming with life that I can only surmise.
On a distant planet, so far from our own,
an ocean of mystery lies unknown,
with waves that crash upon alien shores,
and secrets that hide beneath the ocean floor.
I sit and gaze into the endless expanse,
and let my mind take an astral chance;
to travel to worlds beyond our own,
where the mysteries of space have yet to be known.

After a while
it tastes like sweetwater,
and I can bumble through a bar crowd
with haletosis.

The heartless jest
is this,
I call you
and call you
and call you.

This is the heartless jest,
and in the pantheon
of the heart,
I am minor Hermes
ferrying messages of love
across the brutal galaxies
to a lover
that will never hear me
in the suffocation of nebulas.

The nebulas where i was reborn
and died in an instant
of fire so rapid
that it could break a pulsar
in two.

I have found the vaccuum of space
to be comforting,
it hugs me with a feirceness
that I have never known
and a love for my oxygen
that is downright flattering.

Walk through my soul forest
and sense
Anciently evergreen and wise
Fresh dampness deep with life

Rocket through my mind galaxy
and know
Burning nebulas of inspiration
Infinite dustings of thought constellations

Fall into my heart ocean
and taste
Tides brackish with emotional brine
Love foaming on shells and shorelines

Breathing life into my body
Blooming peace into my life
Take a moment to see me
And these natural forces of mine

Through the astral plains
upon which my consciousness
rides, the vicissitudes of fate
brought about insurmountable awe.

Nebulas of thoughts gathered
distant and fleeting memories
to assess and sort the debris out.

Close to the event horizon, yet
its gravity doesn't pull.
Away from black holes and worm holes,
through thick and thin gaseous satellites,
this voyage goes.

A radiant constellation
from a billion light years away,
can be seen. Unfaltering, ubiquitous,
and seemingly sempiternal;
it's light glistens across galaxies.

The search is now done and,
as ephimeral as might be,
no stardust or meteorite owned
could amass the value
of a mere glimpse of this constellation

It’s not much, I mean, but
uh, nothing, sorry, man I got butterfingers
slippery as my tongue, here
did you drop something, are you sure?
cause my thump-thumping heart dropped
so hard to the floor when it knew you were near
that it bounced right back up
right where it goes, then straight out my crown chakra,
only to dissipate and erupt
into Truth
the literal and the metaphorical
allegorical nebulas that resonate in full high-definition colour the way
all Nine symphonies played simultaneously
would look
sedimentary, like a cheesecake

when I first saw you, something
shifted in my horoscope with the same scope and scale
of a modern Greek myth – Prometheus rising, fire
in the eyes of one woman, that’s all
all Aphrodite could gather up—fix it to the mainstay, Odysseus
let’s get to it, in siren seas, eating weeds to survive
if there’s nothing left when Cthulu
comes alive, I hope at least
I’ll get to talk to you at a party
like, once, where we’ll mix some more
mythologies

Once Inana birthed the world, and Spider Woman showed her how
I could show you how Saraswati
makes music, and old Bacchus stays on his feet
Care to play my Isis? If that makes me Osiris
then drown me, chop me up. Throw my body
to Mr. Lucifer; the Morrigan will come to inspect your ****
and finding it satisfactory
will whisk you away somewhere better

How’s that last part sound to you, eh?

there’s not much left to waste in the techno age
of “nothing in moderation,” with all our
degradation,
defamation,
discrimination,
and mild inflammation caused by
nonspecific anxiety medications
in our nation of constant false elation,
so
my point is time
the one thing we got left to waste
is time, and I’m a dedicated pacifist, but
I wouldn’t mind killing
some of that, with you

Let’s blow this pop stand
and go hunting.

Lisa Nelle
had two names
like a pornstar.

She'd put her makeup on and stick all this blackness on
under her eyes
like she was holding night
in bags.

We watched Hey Arnold! DVDs at five in the morning,
and smoked the whole place up.

Sometimes her and Alexis would go in the back room.

Alexis never liked me.

Lisa Nelle had this way of looking at you
where she'd take her eyes
and she'd work her way
down to your stomach.

She could find a star in my intestines,
a dwarf light could warble in my stomach
and she'd see it through my belly button.

She'd pull it out
wings and all
and tell me
that Khalil knew the answers.

Out of this two-ton purse she carried around,
she'd whip out a compilation of Khalil Gibran.

One time she told me how her father
used to pull her hair
and thighs.

She didn't say anything about it again.

When we tripped shrooms,
she took my hands and put them on her neck
and asked me to feel for the nebulas
underneath her skin.

When I read
some of the stuff you send me,
the emails,
texts
or poems,
I can't help but wonder how many words
I now know as a result of you
that I wouldn't know
if I hadn't been looking
around for bud
and someone I knew
that
knew you.

I'm sorry Lisa Nelle,
that things didn't work out with you and Alexis
when they did
with you
and
Sabrosa.

Sometimes I hate myself too.

i crave the universe; it's expanses, outer reaches.
i want to drink from the big dipper, have my fill,
be merry.
escape with me, from the wicked pull of gravity,
leave this *****, scarred earth.
i want to inhale these scattered constellations;
exhale galaxies, nebulas.
i want to leave these silly material things behind,
we can leave ourselves in this beautifully infinite silence,
let the stars tell the stories of the great orion and cassiopeia.

leave your own footprints on the moon, on mars,
wherever you wish, starchild,
there's too much to see when you live in an
u n f a t h o m a b l e    e x p a n s e
staring into stardust,
staring into the roots of you,
of your creation,
of your nebula-blood.
your star-bones.

Humans
in scales
are in
touch,
they
glide in
the waters
of the starry
skies, the dust
of nebulas
move and
dream
as clouds,
all is in
silence,
and the true
music of
love
begins.

Falling stars,
Descending momentom.
Nebulas of unspoken secrets,
Past and future bended
Into one smile.

Do you think God can control the waterfall?
Can he stop it from rolling over that cliff and shattering into millions of pieces on the rocks below?
Everything's moving so fast
That push it needed
Can't be taken back

But then again God created the waterfall
I didn't create this
Maybe that means I have even less of control

God didn't create factories
Plastic

God is blissful
Possibly because he doesn't try to control the dying nebulas
He could do it
He just doesn't feel the need to
For some reason
The tsunamis crashed
They just had to
It had it's reasons
Or He did
Anyway

Maybe I could be blissful
Just let go
My heart tells me
And I want to
I resent every having grabbed it

Mother, Father
Why am I whipped
I can't lose anymore blood
I won't
I refuse to anymore
If I let you
I won't survive
And I'll hate you for it
Why do you want me to inherit your scars?

I didn't start it
It's not my fault
I tried
I really did
You never did, though
I won't ever feel guilty for that again
You brought this upon yourselves
But that wasn't enough
You felt that we should lose ourselves too

The ship's sinking
I'm leaving
Don't ever doubt that I would give my life for you
But what good would it be if you plan to set the house on fire, anyway?

I love you
Both
I'll miss you
But the sun's up there
Above the trees
I might even have to go scale the mountains
Head straight to the ocean
Someone else will probably be heading the same way too
I'll ask her to come with me
She'll say yes
When we get there
We'll wait for you

I'll tell her about both of you
The house where I lived
My heights are marked along the doorframe
My teeth lost in jars, somewhere
Our smiles caught on film
One day if we ever find it
I'll show them to her

The path we long ago made from the forest
Hasn't been crossed in years
The dust and dirt that formed it
Have been grown over by grass

I talked to the bears
You'll pass peacefully

The monkeys
Will show you the way

The wolves
They'll take you food for the long journey

They tell me there's nothing out of the usual with the forest
No one coming this way
It's a shame
I miss the both of you

Her and I
We're building our own family
We gave them unused names
They deserve to be themselves

We talk about you quite a bit
I even tell them stories, somtimes

In the morning
We eat
At noon
We swim
In the afternoon
We walk down the beach
And in the evening
We eat again and play hide-and-go-seek
Then we put them to bed
And me and her walk down the beach
It's beautiful, I wish you could see it
There's one point where the water's still
And the moon reflects perfectly on it
Then we go back
We fall asleep

And we happen to wake up
Usually when the sun's rising
The way the sky is yellow
It reminds me of you waking me up
Mother

And at times
When we go to bed
Early
The sun'll be setting
And the way the sky is a bit purple
It reminds me of you putting me into bed
Father

The other day I was thinking about why I liked both of them so much
And I figured I'd write it down
Then, if you ever got here someday
I'd remember to show you what makes me cry
It's something only she knows about

Don't worry
Though
I'll see you soon
Someday

Keep up thy vigil, dimpled shepherdess!
Gift night a lantern light to guide lost stars
Strayed from the flock, treaty with tenderness
Soft grazing grounds in heaven's nebulas,

Look low for lone stars fallen from on high,
Feasting on kindling tree-tops laced in cloaks
Of lily blossomed snowy dew drop sighs
Billowed from scattered cushion clouded smokes,

Look further still beneath the ice-fringed eaves
Of gold-spun thatched roofs dotted down the lane,
Footfall echoes stolen by kingly thieves
Triumphantly majestic in their rain:

Look last for shadow framed in windowed light
Keeping thy lonely vigil through the night.

the music of old fashioned births
is no longer enough
and this thought becomes
a magical opera
where all promenade a century
entertaining memoires
that beg release
like an early summer
that is to late
we shall not retire to a wilderness
for we are a great and radiant sin
like exploding nebulas of the mind

Sometimes,
When the sun goes down,
But does not take with it the weight of daily life,
I find my eyes looking up
To the lights that share their wisdom with my troubled mind.

Most days,
My mind finds times when it acquiesces to the struggle
Of the pressures that the world thrusts upon it,
But still it finds refuge in the stars
That shelter from the ever-shifting flow
Of the illusions that press on me to change.

Every night
When my eyes travel the infinity above my head,
I am freed from careless thoughts that drift aimlessly in my mind:
The openness of space greets me with its silent embrace.

Send me adrift around the stars,
Past the endless nebulas, planets and their suns!
Orbit me around the galaxies that stand indifferent to our human time:
A blink of an eye that's quickly forgotten in the infinite.
Up there I find myself as the calm that permeates the emptiness
As I feel all those careless boundaries peel away...

THEY walk / Just one / Alone on the cracked pavement / Toes dragging, head sagging / tripping over lines that aren’t there.
High tops / the likes of God himself /sanctified, glorified, / pearly white as the gates of heaven / Consumerism, cleverly disguised / as divine ascension, the righteous liberty of choice / the steering of your own destiny- / and yet / ... / those footprints in the dirt /  seem only to last as long  / as anyone cares to look.

THEY / THEIR / THEM / Words rarely respected / most often neglected / every conversation, a silent battle / for the right to exist as THEY see themselves / THEY are a complete deviance from / the suffocation of two / neither pink, nor blue. / THEIR body, our bodies / once beautiful in our youth and vigor / now condemned as destitute wastelands. / Reaped of any / dichotomized consumeristic value, / that the world instilled during our years of innocent persuasion. / We are dust now, society tells us / just ghosts of what the earth once bore;  / our place is nonexistent in this world. / Little choice but the next,  / a test with limited boxes to check. / Maybe they’ll listen when our cold, nighttime howls / are too loud to ignore. / Maybe one day, we’ll fill the ears with our voice / never to be quelled again. / But until then / existence becomes more a question than fact.


A red rover world; / it croons to us lovingly,  / as does the sun coax the flowers to bloom / come out! the world says / come out! / our wayward sons / come out! / our wandering daughters / come out, oh battered children of the world / let us cradle your broken hearts! / let us see your tears!  feel your anguish! / and maybe we will know you better for your suffering. / And so we came, and continue to come. / not all, but enough for the satisfaction of the status morale / Be different! the world challenges / And so THEY dare to live differently, / and by extension, dangerously. / We ascend, just like the logos told us we would- / only to be brutally thrown aside / because we’re all the wrong shoe size. / our punishment is most often internalized / we knew all along, our woes an offbeat cry / to the rest of the planets unwavering bass line.


Scrutiny badgers us, in the guise of necessity / when in reality, it is the / furtherment of our marginalization. / What’s in your pants? / What bathroom do you use? / How do you ****? / Liquidated words flow free like water, / but stay behind, slow and thick like hot tar; / it hurts just the same. / Has it occurred to you / that THEY might want to share with you / more than the anatomy of THEIR mortal shells? / THEIR minds, THEIR souls transcend ignorant thought. / Ask THEM something beautiful, because that is what THEY are. / Do THEY come together like a star, in a glorious explosion of light and motion? / Or is it more like a flower blossoming, fragile pulses beating under translucent skin?


The labels of today / the toxic expectations building up from within / like residual filth trapped under your fingernails / never gone, bound to return, nearly inescapable / and never directly addressed / for the sake of not / corroding. / The stars are within kaleidoscope eyes. / yes, dexterous hands have crafted this being / see the light, the mystique and wonder of / this stardust child, set to change the spin of things. / and THEIR heavenly shape is beautifully flawed / maybe marred by the solar winds of the sun / or glimmering with interstellar dust- / a lingering kiss of radiation  / from THEIR time among the asteroids. / This person of universal intent / THEY must be big, and THEY must be brave / for whilst joined under flag and name, THEY are still just one  / a lonely phantom wandering cracked, forgotten sidewalks / Where the lights flicker and the air is stagnant and thin. / THEY cast THEIR eyes skyward, searching for something / a twinkling like THEIR own, in the map of the vast unknown / A reflection of what THEY must become / to simply be.


In a way only the universe can, / it whispers back on the celestial winds / with an unnoticed correspondence. / One of those skidded toe marks / Has smudged the lines of / blue and pink / Hopscotch lines, much like unspoken, unbroken lines / that is where THEY reside. / the fray, the cusp, the precipice / THEY see THEIR world in the skidmarks / a grand spray of color, like the nebulas that THEY once knew / Not the line, but the divergence of what is known / into something new... / and a hopscotch hymnal, / a broken prayer on clumsy lips / not to the God with the high tops, / pearly and clean as heaven’s gate, / but to a vast and anonymous universe / is answered.

It is so much fun making things.
Cutting construction paper,
and printing pictures from the computer,
and making solar system posters,
with colorful comets, and nebulas.
But without my good friend Elmers glue
I don't know what I would do.

Just a dot, and spread it around,
and you can stick Ganymede next to Jupiter,
and make all kinds of cool collages.

You can make little game pieces,
and play galaxy battles with grandpa,
but without Elmers glue
everything would fall apart,
and all the papers would seperate,
and nothing would work!

That's why I love Elmers glue.
Its like love,
because it fixes little broken plastic hearts,
and keeps beautiful pictures, and strong paper together,
so that you can make beautiful and strong things,
which is what love is.

So you can sort of say
that Elmers glue, kind of
is love.
Which is why I love it!

The weight of life is reduced to a cloud
As raindrops of lysergic acid run free.
Their pitters and patters equally loud
As all of the colours that melt around me.
The womb of the universe beating its drum
And setting a pace for the flowers to bloom.
A force with such strength that all nature succumbs
As peacefulness floats in kaleidoscope flumes.

Empathy blossoms, arousing a smile,
That creeps from my lips to the end of the room,
Searing itself on a cosmic denial
That beauty like this shouldn’t gestate from gloom.
Floating, not unlike a dandelions seed,
Thoughts of anxiety flee to the Earth.
They carry but vapidness with the sweet breeze.
In nebulous nebulas they are dispersed.

Now what remains as a warm neon cloud
Is beauty profound and purpose pristine.
Unwanted, the ego is left disavowed
Dancing in memories of amphetamines.
Left in its place was the beauty and I.
Climbing like vines as it forces the walls.
Pushing them down with an ******* sigh,
Revealing a cosmos that rhythmically calls:

‘Freedom is such a deplorable word.
It offers ambitions too fruitful to take.
Though comfort or not,
As with fictitious plot,
It’s only as real as it’s fake.’

There are those who would not agree
With the thought of you and I;
The thought of our lips touching,
Of you kissing my neck as I arch my head back in laughter.
Sharing a *** of tea in midday,
Pointing out our favorite lines in the song
And realizing altogether
That we’ve only known one another’s  touch
For a short time; yet it feels like eternity.

I do not know all the secrets you hold,
The worst thing you’ve slurred while drunk,
Or how many friends abandoned you.
And you don’t know the dusty corners of my mind quite yet.
But what I do know is that
Your skin is made of galaxies,
Your eyes of stars,
Your heart of nebulas
And I can no longer imagine the night sky without you.

And even if my baggage comes with peach tea
And yours holds the ashes of cigarettes,
We won’t know  the difference 20 years down the road.
Brew me up and I’ll inhale your nicotine,
Let me steep and I’ll exhale the smoke you've held in for so long.

I’ll be your anchor and you can be my wings,
And we won’t give up easily.
We have this life and the next to figure it out,
And when the earth falls, and we plunge through darkness with it,
Nothing but our stars will remain.

Magical dew drops falling from the sky
Winter whispers in a dark and different way

You will find the nebulas dancing
in and out of sight

Real or imagined
we slip and slide
while the giant planets
sleep in the solar night

Together we dance
and we bathe in
the space of time

Do you know who you are?

How you shine

In the upside down
In the moonlight
where the mermaids swim

This land of make believe
The creatures here know your name

Wing-ed things calling from afar
their magic burnt on my soul
forever

Ancient warlocks casting shadows
Their black cats singing
to the violins

Now it's raining big blue diamonds

I see your reflection
in my shadow
guiding me
through life

This time
I know how to
make you stay

We'll swim in the oceans
of the magic of space
and we'll shine

We'll shine

I've diagnosed myself with astrophilia,
after years of realizing I've become addicted to space.
it started when I was sixteen,
when I had spent the summer at my father's,
and he took me to the mountains to see the night sky.
I remember being so emotional,
at the thought of a billion stars twinkling in the sky,
and how small we are compared to a trillion of nebulas,
floating so elegantly in the night sky.

After that I became deteermined to memorize every constellation,
every planet in each galaxy,
each and every little thing about astronomy.
Eventually, one day I was able to go to the moon-
I had endless adventures in space,
coming face to face with aliens,
where we went to mars and talked about human life,
and what else lies in the deep galaxy.

A year later, I went to go and live on mars.
And once again found the friendly aliens-
We held meetings in my home,
where we spoke of nebulas and stars,
as if we were speaking in tongues.
We were so addicted to space as if it were heroine,
injected into our veins.