Star Scars

You drew stars around my scars,

And now I’m bleeding, and the blood exiting

My galactic wound is eating itself into a

Blackhole by leaving.

I can count my lucky stars,

That I have you giving me your

Weekends to do this for me.

Spring breaks loose;

It’s nightfall; the stars are evident

In this kind of hour.

I live and die for moments that we stole,

As we grew grey and old,

Sleeping in for half a day,

Gay and sad,

We can call it even.

I was read by you many times,

To the point, you became dead,

Like a shooting star,

You couldn’t interpret my wishes anymore.

So you decide to place yours onto mine,

As I grant them, and you take them for granted,

So I grant the wishes of the old scars you drew on

Me, connected with a marker to its

Healed parts and filled its space to transcend.