Stardust

Take my hands—

I reach for my lover

who no longer recognizes me.

Eyes darting through me like mist.

Eyes that are no longer mine.

​

The wind is uncannily still,

and so is my body.

The ground softens beneath me,

absorbing my entirety.

Cradling me graciously. 

My dreams

get lost in the dunes.

​

Take my hands.

Let them drink the saltwater.

Let me become

a well without a bottom.

​

There is a maelstrom inside me,

but this dome between us

swallows the thunder

without a sound.

So I watch

helpless

as my lover

dresses this grave as a garden.

​

Take my hands,

or what’s left of them.

I am nothing but stardust,

scattered across galaxies,

across water,

across your lips.

​

I wish you'd quiet this storm

this static that keeps ringing.

Let go of the scent on my linens,

the sorrows in the past,

Perform this last ritual 

and just—

take my hands.

​

Lucid Purgatory 

I have this

recurring dream

where the setting changes,

but the story never does.

​

I find love,

then lose it before the sun sets.

my cat dies

my lover vanishes

my father looks at me

as if I were a wound

he never meant to keep.

​

And every time I wake,

my pillow is soaked

voice cracked,

like I’ve been screaming

underwater,

drowning in an endless ocean.

​

The dream always ends the same:

with me hurting,

and hitting myself

back to the world.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

Fists against my own skin,

head kissing the wall.

​

Sometimes it works.

Sometimes it doesn't.

and I wait 

for the waking world 

to want me back.

​

I slept less

wandered more.

But the dreams always found me.

​

This time,

I had finally made it out.

Bought the life

I dreamed of

in the fever of my childhood.

A life far from this neighbourhood 

and all the losses 

disguised as home.

​

But the plane I boarded

didn’t plan

on touching ground again.

​

I took one last dance

down the aisle—

spinning, spinning,

as panic bloomed around me

and the screams

of the other passengers

became a funeral choir.

​

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

I struck my own face

And tightened my eyes shut

trying to spark

my way back to life.

​

But this time,

Morning never came.

I opened my eyes 

and took in the chaos ,

headfirst towards this tragedy 

unfolding before me

​

This time,

I wasn't dreaming.

​

Lamentations 

I wonder how many times

we’ve been made from dust.

How many Genesis have there been

how many mother planets

we’ve inhabited.

​

It is the same repeated cycle–

we are created,

we evolve,

then the human virus takes over.

we kill,

we sin,

we destroy.

the planet groans,

breaking beneath our weight

and collapses in itself.

​

Heaven gives us another chance.

They’ll be different this time.

I will give them a new name,

a new heart,

a new form.

​

But the apple does not fall far from Eve.

this time it was not the serpent. 

evil is inevitable

and so is our existence.

​

It gets worse each time–

how comfortable we’ve grown

watching our kind drown,

walking over bodies,

ignoring the raging storm.

​

But blindness does not heal the wound.

​

This time,

the end is nearer

than the beginning.

we will not change.

we are unrepentant.

we will not be better.

nothing is new under the sun.

​

The virus is hungrier for blood

than ever before.

​

We might not survive

another mother planet.

perhaps mercy will no longer call us back.

​

So I plead—

let it end here.

for my soul is weary,

I would not rise again.