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