Shooting Stars

What did the shooting stars do to deserve a moment of glitz

in the Infinity of time and sky?

A moment nothing more than

A spectator sport.

A crowded theatre.

A symphony short of the conductor.

 

Was it because of the burns that make it beautiful to the by-stander so far away?

Was it the friction?

Or was it the never ending falling out of love it symbolized?

 

I couldn’t really write or tell.

 

Even after being such shooting stars in the past,

Sharing the same core with her.

After all the burns that left me with only love and little common sense.

After all the black holes we believed we surpassed.

After all the scars,

A numbness for all but the pain of longing

A burn that is giving me a crushing pain that I’ll get used to.

 

A burn that will glow for the world,

Make no noise,

Meddle with sanity.

 

For it is

A spectator sport.

A crowded theatre.

A two-piece symphony short of the conductor.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s