i’m no astronaut, but
i’ve stuck around for fifteen revolutions
i’ve swung from the sun’s gold-dappled vines
while you waltzed among jupiter’s tempests and
trekked through mars’s droughts
pirouetted around your empires of stardust
watched the cyan days of youth
kiss the waning gibbous goodnight
yet you haven’t found the place
that deems you worthy
so you sit from your crater
speaking soliloquies to secluded satellites
you’ve grown weary of longing for connection
because for years you’ve watched the world blossom
chased the stockholm sunsets where bursts of pastel
meet the horizons of which your evergreen arms embrace
and yet no one bothers to smile back at you
because to them, you’re just another dot on the canvas
but i looked in between the lines
i watch from my windowsill
as you wax and wane
and weave in and out of the velvet sky
you trace constellations with your fingertips
and stitch your heart with meteorite tails
i’d travel lightyears to meet you halfway
take you into my arms and show you the world
take these yards of red ribbon and connect the stars
for there is a place for us
and i promise
i will take you there someday
so don’t carry orion on your shoulders
or let cassiopeia creep under your skin
because life is too short to be spent
comparing constellations to yourself
and once dawn seeps through the zeniths
we will dance on the edges of neverland
just promise me
to never wilt and fade away
