detached yet intertwined

a poem about being small and not small at the same time.

i wish i were a part of the sky.

maybe i was, once upon a time. maybe i will be after i die. 

but the feeling of hopelessness that can come with being alive,

it’s exhausting.

maybe one day, i’ll feel like the stars.

and another day, i’ll feel like the clouds.

the day after, i’ll feel like the moon, in all her lunar glory,

and on clear nights and pretty days,

dewy dawns and quiet twilights,

i’ll be everything, all at once. 

but it isn’t as easy as it sounds, detaching myself from this.

i can only behave like liquid in my dreams. take the form of any container you put me in,

there, i’ll behave like the waves of the ocean,

my tides pulled along by luna herself,

unyielding and unrestricted.

but here i am, tethered to a realm i don’t feel comfortable in anymore.

but there’s something else that keeps me from drifting too far from shore.

my skin splits and rebuilds. scars form as reminders of a battle lost, but eventually won

they are supernovae, alive then dead, reborn another way

my muscles sing for me to dance, creating music in a vacuum

and my fat covers me like the blanket it’s always served as, protecting my insides

warming me on the nights where i feel encased in ice on the surface of neptune, no sun to be seen

while my brain serves as a friend i’m not particularly fond of,

but can’t stand the thought of abandoning, 

a black hole that is lonely at first glance but comforting after contemplation.

my skeleton holds me. steady, steady

she oils the parts where bone connects to bone and i can move again, like the moving constellation i was meant to be

lungs expand like the universe itself, enriching my blood with the breath of trees

while bruises become nebulae, as they remind me that i am soft and colorful, like the downy clouds of a storm before dusk

filled with the crackle and boom of lightning,

flowing through the broken blood vessels beneath the surface of skin 

so my heart, though she should be tired, never fails to keep me breathing.

indeed, it is through this that i keep breathing.

of course, it is through this that the heart keeps beating.

i am reborn from the death of a star

during my last breath, i’ll exhale my soul

my energy is conserved; i will live on

long after the galaxies and planets are gone.

Reviews

[Lovecraft]

I agree with Justice, the Title was what sparked my interest too. Ah, the hopelessness of life. I tend to detach myself from most of my emotions whenever possible, so I can relate to this.

The structure and flow need a little work, but the images you evoke are somewhat brilliant. The last verse is a fittingly dark end to this poem.

Well done young lady, I quite liked this poem. :)

[😂]

the title of this particularly drew me in :D

[...]

Deep thoughts... I like it.
I would like to think that I'll turn to dust and blow away, to the stars. I'll probably be cremated though, and sprinkled here and there.