space debris
because society prefers to accept me when i love a star, and not her. and maybe because of that, i can pretend that she is one of the stars so that i can love her entirely … in every way … in silence … without rejection … and to protect her, from me.
in the black void of space, i can look at her as long as i want to, and no one can tell which beautiful star i am looking at the moment.
and she is so far away, unreachable, just like those stars.
to her i am just a debris, to her i am nonexistence, to her i am nothing, and to her i am no more than the tiniest part of the entire cosmos with all its rules.
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to her i am a burden, to her i am just a crybaby, to her … maybe i am no one.
to her i am probably just a rouge planet, roaming around without direction, trying to get her attention while she is shining brightly not knowing i am here in despair.
only name, she only knows me for my name
and only that, i can continue to exist
even when all i can do is just staring, gazing, and longing for her
and if i may sound too possessive, if i am allowed to be, i am also wishing for her to get close …
