Interstellar.
I know he is the other half of me
the other part of my soul,
I know that our stars travelled a hundred years
To be together
but instead of a supernova,
a supermassive black hole.
And it sucked me in with such force
I could see no light
it was though I was no longer my own
but a part of him,
like a light he decided to switch off
my star combusted and his exploded into colours of the night.
Of red and purple
our favourite colours
my favourite colours.
If our stars never met I wonder
where would they be now
where?
Would yours have collided with another
whilst mine searches eternally for someone
who is not there.
Mine.
My inspiration is Sadness
she whispers to me in my sleep
tells me stories of happiness
reminds me of promises I can not keep.
My muse is Darkness
she helps me to see
she cloaks me in her charcoal hair
alone with her I shall be.
My lover is Cold
he helps me to feel alive
only at his touch, goose bumps
only with him I truly revive.
My inspiration is Sadness
she whispers to me in my sleep
fills me with the promise of nightmares
promises she will always keep.
Dante.
I thought my world would end in fire,
my heart burned twice,
from what I tasted of your desire
I thought we would end in fire.
Yet my heart is not ash, but ice
the third circle of hell,
Oh, for our love I paid the price
from the snow my chest did swell.
And my world froze twice.
Familiar Woe.
Self inflicted, I let them rush back
like a child runs back to its mother
yet unlike that loving mother my arms are crossed
I cast them out yet welcome another.
Another familiar pain
they pry my arms open with cold hands
but the familiar frost is comforting
and they embrace me like sinking sands.
It takes little persuasion to sink
even as they squeeze, suffocate
I let them back in, those thoughts
and now it is too late.
No matter how hard I try
No matter how far I cast
these thoughts come rushing back
familiar, comforting and more painful than the last.
Fervent.
Are Love and Pain the same?
many would say no,
but they do not know the intensity
at which I love you so.
It feels as though my heart is distended
pounding too hard in my chest
until my ribs slowly splinter and shatter
from this pressure I receive no rest.
No rest for my musings
I spin and spin until I am sick
Are love and pain the same?
feels all too similar if you look quick.
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