they told me to rise
but i fade with every daybreak.
maybe some are meant to live
in darkness because
shooting stars can only
light up the night.
stars won’t warm your skin,
but they carry the wishes of every soul
whose feet can never leave earth.
i cannot live in all the wrong places
because they told me
right and wrong only last twelve hours a day.
i stay to ignite hope
and that is only craved in the darkness.
i am a desert,
dried of words.
i have said all i can,
felt all there is to feel
about all we have said
and left unsaid.
i will have no more poems
until you can give more words to me—,
that is the greatest tragedy of all:
you chained my art to my heart,
so that when you left with my love,
you left me voiceless,
i hope my memory haunts you
and i hope these words touch you
in ways my hands could not.