we were never written in the stars.

He was the sun.

Yellows and oranges and reds,

fiery down to the core.

A big bright star in the middle

of an otherwise dark galaxy.

 

I was a mere planet.

Small and cold and lifeless,

orbiting around this sun,

trying to find a source of warmth.

There was nothing special about me.

 

And it almost seemed like we could work.

I gave him the attention he craved

and he gave me the warmth and love I needed.

But it was destined to end badly.

I could not grow closer to him,

for I was only a mere planet

obeying my path of orbit.

We could never become closer nor farther

than where we are now.

And it was not his fault

that he was the sun.

And it was not my fault

that I was only a speck in the universe.

But it was my fault

for believing this could work,

for believing I could ever be something more.

 

  • m.f.
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s