Once upon a midnight dreary
If I Were a Star

It hurts when you realize
the people that you love
have changed, or perhaps
it’s you that has become
someone different, almost
a complete stranger to yourself.

But that is what happens in life,
things change, and you can either
dwell on the past, like staring at a
tattered photograph, tears welling up
in your distant eyes, wondering if you
could pin-point the exact moment things
began to change, when the person you
knew so well became a fading memory.
Or you can accept that your lives have
slowly drifted apart, and hold those moments
you shared close to your heart,
but the latter somehow seems so much
more difficult to fathom,
now doesn’t it?

I believe it is because as people we
struggle to accept change, only when
it is unwanted, of course.
It’s strange to image how one would
simply fall out of love, but we have all
felt that hurt, that twisting pain, the
growing blackness within our chest,
the one that cuts your breathing short,
and eliminates hunger, confides you to
those linen cotton monsters, wrapping
their selfish claws around your flesh.
We can’t image the thought of the one
we love the most, waking up and realizing
they have changed, and somehow they get up,
and walk away.

But I imagine people are like stars,
burning, shining together, perhaps
only for a short moment in time, but
that moment stays with us, longer than
we would like to admit.
And to be honest, if I were a star,
I shined my brightest with you.

The Burning Lovers

Do you remember the night
that we laid on the warm wooden
porch with our bare backs on the
splintered planks and looked
up at the glowing sky?
The moon was playing her
childish games, sneaking and
peeking from behind the thick clouds,
the stars, those brilliantly bright stars,
burning and lighting the darkness
that felt so still and silent, an eerie
sense that made it seem as if
we were the only ones left in the world.

We laid still for hours,
blowing smoke rings and
taking warm sips from that
heavy handle of whiskey, we
realized how difficult it is to
drink while lying down and
giggled at our struggles and
mirrored addictions.
I felt the warmth of his mysterious
smile, those perfect ivory bones.

Our painted bodies lay there
naked and moist from the thick
summer fog, hanging almost as
low as the clouds that night, and
slowly, he inched his fingers towards
my hand, I could feel his anxious
touch lingering so close to mine.
Finally, his thick, colorful fingers
intertwined with mine, how strange
that they fit so perfectly, he tilted his
head towards mine and pointed
a finger to the silent night sky.

The stars, they glow for you,
and when those burning lovers
fizzle, dim, and disappear, just know
that I will always shine for you.

If you would only let me

I gave him choices, every
possible one I could conjure:
I’ll take you where ever
you want to go,
any star in the sky that
ever was, any beach,
museum, park, diner,
I can want to show you
how beautiful this world
can truly be, if you only let me.
But you have
to open your eyes,
you must take your time
and not just look,
but actually begin to see.

It’s strange sometimes
how people begin to lose
sight of the world, giving up
so easily on the simplicity of the
aesthetic beauty surrounding them.
It’s almost as if people walk
through live with their eyes
closed.

How tragic it must be to
not live in the moment,
feeling the wild breeze
combing your hair, lying
in grass that tickles your legs,
smiling with warmed red
cheeks after that first soft kiss.

I can show you how to feel,
and teach you how to see,
to live with your eyes open,
drinking beauty with your sight.
If you would only let me.

I wish.

I wish rocks were more
than just stones trapped
in warm soil, and
I wish these trees could
speak to me tell me their
oak secrets, saved only
for the dreamers, like me,
craving the sweet ancient
melodies they sing.
I want the breeze to be more
than the wind blowing
through my hair, maybe
they could be the whispers of
unwritten love letters that once
were spoken to the clouds.
I wish the sun was more than
a burning star that singes
my pale skin, I just sit here
in the grass while it prickles
the backs of my legs, and
I wish.

I wish on every blade
of grass, on each limb of
the trees, that you will
somehow make it back to me.
The world seemed like so
much more when you were around.