A neglected sun I am
sitting between resurrection and
death comforted only by the faint echo
of a dying song reverberating back to me.
A reminder that I am completely alone, with
worlds blooming from the
tips of my teeth
like jailbird Athenas,
clattering downwards, they spill
into a million tiny shining pieces.
The sum of my being.
They are blue and green and brilliant,
full and brimming with unrivaled entirety
but they blister and wilt.
too young and tender;
bubbles in the wake of a blood crazed wind.
My planets become nothing more than
vague descriptions of people on trains
with interesting faces that I can't quite remember.
My mind cannot recall what I worked
so hard to worry for
brows stitched with foreign remorse
my fingers dipped into the wet stain that
once reflected me.
I try to speak of their beautiful truth
my babies barely born
with the magnificence in which
they were created
but words fall limp and awkwardly
like a newborn fawn whose mother has
been shot in the throat.