I’d rather be in a starship
Visiting the stars
Than be a star.

Stars cannot retreat to remote asteroids
And turn out the lights.

Stars cannot drift loosely
among the constellations.

Stars cannot drink in
the uncertain darkness.

I gave birth to a star once.

He is a beacon
Attracting other celestial bodies
Into his orbit.

He grows brighter
With each ray
of admiration.

His admirers revel
in his cheery glow.

Sometimes he is blinded
By his own light.

He shrinks away
At the mention of shadows
Which must be eradicated
At all cost.

I offer him my hand,
Beckoning him to join me
In my starship.

He shakes his head, wordlessly.

I let go
And promise to meet him
Wherever he may be.

You don’t need anyone to light you up.
Don’t ever let anyone else become
your sun, you are your own sun.
I believe that it is necessary to find
your moon, the person that you
reflect off of, and the person that you
fall into special kind of gravity with,
but no one should ever become your sun.
You are your own sun and you must
be your own source of light and life,
because once someone else
becomes your sun, and once that
sun falls into another’s orbit,
all of the flowers you’ve planted
shrivel up and die in darkness.
You must be your own sun.

So many worlds.
So many lives to
exist in.
Yet in a mere
coincidence;
Of time and
space.
We exist in each
other's.
But as the worlds
orbit around
life,
You can't deny
the space.
At first from
within,
A void in your
heart.
To a physical
space dividing
us.
And we got on our
own way.
Like nothing ever
happened.

-HIY

I know Earth still orbits around the Sun,
because I know that your heart continues to beat on Earth
as the thought of you constantly rotates inside my head...

With rough hands, she was the only thing that made them soft.
New experiences protected by their roughness.
The orbit of her body their center.
They kept her safe.
She admired their scars.
Their courage to love as they did.
To properly deflect the asteroids that threatened her orbit.
To hold a fire such as she.
Their standards high, lifting her high above.
An explicable star shooting across the sky.
With hands like a fortress.
They cherished every sunrise of her smile.
For all that she is.
She is blissfully unaware

The full, ****** moon
didn't feel that super.
It's powers of persuasion,
the pull of its personality
had ebbed to an all time low.
Oh, how it ached to make
its return journey,
to head back to the light,
to resist the draw
of this lesser sphere
and to answer
the greater solar call.
Each crator craved
to add that greater gravity
to its own
and together give rise
to the highest tides,
to monster surfs
that would daunt
the most arrogant of Canutes.
No amount of talk of waning
would deny this moon
it's rightful place,
turning it's far, dark side
to face the warmth of the sun,
and orbiting on,
into a crescent
of nocturnal renewal.