Seated at a banquet

Points made to fly

Forever on a blanket

Stars fill the sky

A star will sometimes stumble

A star will sometimes fall

And down the star will tumble

Till nothing is left at all

What do they do you may ask,

“What do they eat?”, you say

They never dream of doing a task

But dance the night away

To be blatantly and unromantically honest,

I have a sneaking suspicion

that the main thing

preventing "stars"

from being

"The Sun"

is ...

well,

...proximity.

stars in his eyes

he doesnt know

that every night

i pray that they shine

for me

stars in his eyes

they twinkle so bright

that even the moon

is jealous that she

doesnt shed that

kind of light

"there's stars in your eyes"

he tells me and when

we make eye contact

supernovas take place

and i can feel it through

out my body

- so this is love?

I'll never be a star

I'll never shine my light

And I'll tell myself

I'll say that its alright

I'll stay here in the dark

And the world will never see

All of this potential

That hides inside of me

You don't even see me

You look right past my face

Society has beat me down

Until I understand my place

But I don't need your pity

I don't need to be set free

Around me are the millions

Who don't know they're just like me

You move me in ways my tongue is still,

and no words can be formed.

I sit in silence as I hear the stars in my veins collide against each other as they rush to my chest,

causing me to gasp your name.

You move me.

It’s a triangle.

No, it’s a square. I think I can expand it into a star with four vertices. No, five.

I found a kite once. Oh, wait, that’s the same thing.

Why do I always hear about the stars? Constellations? Shapes?

It all makes no sense.

My back against the bumper, my eyes in my head, my breath in my eyes

I can only see a floating desert of black with little spots of white

And the more I try to connect the dots, the more lost I feel

The more I count, the less I see (try it)

Why do stars have to form shapes?

Why can’t they just be what they are? Light against dark? Good against bad?

Little clusters here and there, for every family in its corner of the world,

dying out one at a time, pulling apart, pulling together

For every group of persons doing something, together, good or bad

Why can’t that little dot, sitting at the corner of the sky, be every loner?

Why can’t it be me, just on my own, far away, beautiful and bright and not part of a bigger picture?

The bigger picture hurts, it always does. It makes me feel tiny.

What’s in the stars? I don’t see.

No, I’m not blind, I just told you I see white against black.

You know what, damn this night, damn Aries and Leo,

I’ve always believed clouds form more shapes than stars.

I will wait till morning

I will wait for the sun to rise

It’s more like me

Alone.

// Even the

Cool ocean's tide

rise against the gravity

when the moon

unveils its parts

Every end of twenty ninth.

Even the

mountains elapse

Over the oblivious clouds

to peck the follicles

Of the sun's rays.

But I,

Like the wolf to its moon

howl to see your sight

and all I could fathom

is your glance

for one half second of my beats;

I see you and unsee you

as if you are breathing

within my eyes. \\

I must be wishing

on a broken star

whose grey light

dims each time I pray

whose calloused arms

hold stiff and break

whose stardust falls

on all but me

whose song of love

is nearly gone

my lucky star

my lovely wish

my little light

my lonely gift

I wish on you

each day and night

with no return

and no delight

but who needs luck

when you work hard

for that will surely

bring you far