He called me his star
He called me the sun
He called me the moon
But I chose to be ashen
Circa Happy Times
He called me his star today. I looked up as he whispered to me that I shone in his arms and burned through his shield like a blemish you could never really hide. His head shifted closer to mine and he held my eyes in his, I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. He whispered and then spoke aloud, I was his star. I was one among million, but I was his only one. I was what he wished upon every night, I was who he searched for among many. I was unique and solitary, I was too far up there, but he could hold me. I was silver and gold and a beacon, I was the change his heart had always hooked onto. I was his little blinker. I was his star.
Circa Happier Times
He looked at me different today. We fought, you see. We fought about the silliest of things and I walked away. But he held on. He looked me in the eyes with a daze that only warmth and closure gives you. And he said to me with pain streaking through his voice and love leaking through his fingers, and he tipped my chin up and said, ‘You’re the sun. You shine on no matter what, and even if I turn away, I know you’re lighting me up in an alternate universe. You’re bigger than all of us, you’re too beautiful to touch. You kiss like the sun, you’re a burning fever. You’re my favorite sin. You burn my skin and shred my being apart, but I’ll always return and walk around you. You’re the sun to my system.”
Circa Happiest Times
I ran from his arms today, not into them. I snuck away from his grasp like a lily refusing to bloom. The lights went out and he crept into the bed. ‘The moon’. And I turned and hid in his embrace. ‘You’re not perfect, no. You’re scarred. You keep yourself hidden. You run from the light and sit in the dark. You kneel and lay in a bed of daisies. You wear black and grey but when you bloom, oh, you’re a red I cannot begin to define. And now I know why we’ll last. There is a nocturnal crime we commit and you’re mine. I will be your prisoner and walk with you into the darkness and bring you to the shining.’
The third hour of the new day is for the lonely and the loved. And today, I write sitting still as a rock. I dare not ruffle the sheets for his faint musk still clings to them. He’s gone. He’s really gone this time and now I’m waking up to the sun, and it’s too bright to tolerate. I’m counting the stars and searching for the one he called me, but it’s shifted to another sign. I watch the moon, alone and dull, but it’s shrinking away into the recess of time. I’m all that’s left of stardust and magic. His words play in my head like a ballad that shakes the strongest of men. Why do I wait for someone to come and turn my head and thaw my heart? I’m the Earth. I’m life, I’m alive. I’m power and strength. I carry in me, the tales of many. The bits we hide and the parts we bury. I hold in me the problems and sobs, I hold me in me, the roots of all. I hold in me a soul that fights through every tornado. I’m the rivers and the bees, I’m the calm waves and the rough seas. I’m the tidal panic and the heat of the magma.
I am not out of this world. I am one of it, and I will not let you place me on a cloud. I will not shiver and rain down on you. I will stand here, taller than most and learn you by heart and when I’m done with you, you’ll know why hurricanes are named after people.