I was always in awe of the sky.
So much so that I’d trip on the ground beneath me
as my gaze remained fixated far over my head.
When I told you that I wanted to be a star,
you said that the sky was far too extraordinary
to welcome someone like me.
Someone like me.
I stopped looking up after that.
I was ashamed to show someone like me to something like that.
But If I could convince you that I was beautiful,
then surely I could convince the sky of that too.
Because if you believed in me,
then I could believe in me too.
I wish I had known that I didn’t need your permission
to believe in myself or my dreams,
but mother did always tell me
to ask dad for permission.
You didn’t let me call you dad though,
I wasn’t extraordinary enough for that
You didn’t hold my hand to cross the street,
or wish me sweet dreams,
but you did throw me against walls
and I spent the most innocent of my years bleeding
from the cuts on my hands
as I tried to piece back together
shattered bits of myself
into an image that was worthy of the sky,
maybe even worthy of you.
I guess I failed to make a masterpiece of myself
because one day, you left,
but your shadows didn’t.
I followed them on a journey
that lead to my grave.
On my way, I grew cold,
clinging onto lies,
and never ever daring to look up.
Still, as I hovered over a hole in the ground
I couldn’t force myself to go
without looking up
one last time
I hadn’t felt much of anything in a while,
but when I looked up
I felt everything I longed to be.
It was something about the way the darkness consumed the sky,
the way he claimed her, swallowing all her light,
and when all of her had been devoured,
when it seemed the darkness had succeeded
in conquering all that she was,
she produced the most beautiful array of light
that could only be so beautiful in contrast with the night.
& I had thought she couldn’t be more beautiful than she was before
until she showed a beauty so bright
it lit up the darkest of times.
I guess I always sang much too loud
and dreamt much too big for you, didn’t I?
I guess I shined a little too bright
you always did prefer the dark.
I don’t know what made you so afraid
of a little girl with big dreams,
but someone must have minimized all that you are so much
that you felt everyone around you should feel small too.
I do not belong in a hole beneath the ground.
No, I belong in the sky.
I identify with the stars.
I feel their pain.
Everybody sleeps on them,
but they are so damn beautiful.
They are too damn extraordinary to be defined
by someone like you.
And so I too will never be defined
by someone like you.