They say you’re supposed to wish upon shooting stars,
and I wished that you would come back some day.
Nothing will take my mind off the absence,
with all hopes incinerating like meteor showers
Let me go out in a final explosion,
a penultimate supernova marking history one more time
But for us, our history is over.
You shine with such blinding iridescence,
while I slowly fade like as a fading star,
consuming myself until nothing is left.
I’m a black hole, because I can’t let you go,
no matter how hard I try.
Author’s Words for Thought
“Life is the tragedy,’ she said bitterly. ‘You know how they categorize Shakespeare’s plays, right? If it ends with a wedding, it’s a comedy. And if it ends with a funeral, it’s a tragedy. So we’re all living tragedies, because we all end the same way, and it isn’t with a goddamn wedding.” -Robyn Schneider