This is becoming really hard!! Too many deadlines are coming up at once!
I have spent the whole week either in lectures, at work or in bed with my laptop. It’s not too bad a life. Stressful, but comfy. Now I just actually need to do the work I’m being marked on!
Thankfully, one of the poems I wrote is done enough that I feel confident to submit it for an assessed performance on Monday. It’s called Starry-Eyed and I’m quite proud of it. I’ve always wanted to write a meaningful poem with space metaphors but I could never think of a message.
And then I did. So here’s the poem!
I remember my momma saying,
that some people have hurricanes in their lives but galaxies in their eyes;
and others are born with stars at their feet but their minds lost in storms.
I lay outside at night and I see the stars;
I want to breathe in their dust.
I want to have a little bit of their lustre;
I want to end up there too.
You said you could help.
You found me dreaming of being a constellation,
and you entranced me with that half-moon smile.
You reached up and rattled the stars,
shook every last one down,
and held them out to me in your palms,
promised me a spot in the night sky.
You told me you knew the galaxy like the back of your hand.
I believed you.
You crashed into my life like waves,
wore away my defences,
and sucked me in to your whirlpool.
You held us both underwater, coming up for air
only when you wanted to tell me more about the stars.
I lifted you out of the sea, up to the stars
hoping you would pull me up with you.
But I only slipped further away from the stars I envied
and ended up with dashed skies
and cracked stars that now litter the ocean floor.
You ended up a galaxy away.
You were right.
You knew the galaxy
like the back of the blank hand you slighted me with.
You didn’t have to know anything
and I still fell.
Now my eyes drip down like the star-less skies,
They cover the space between us.
I clawed out of the water, it – tainted with your words,
reminding me of you with every stroke.
It felt like months until I reached the beach where you found me.
Months before my mouth could speak your name again.
But I’ve since learned to ignore shallow promises.
My ears don’t hear the salty whispers.
I heard you did this again, to someone else.
Someone, like I was when you found me.
I want to shout “You won’t get to whisk her away again!”
I won’t know when you’re going to act,
but I also know there’s nothing I can do.
I’ve realised that there’s no great plan for us.
If everything is random,
and everything is an accident,
then I owe the universe nothing.
It took me years to realise that I was worth the space I took
I put the stars back in the sky again,
Picked them up one by one.
To me, they’re broken masterpieces
with good intentions spilling out.
Some were cracked and didn’t shine,
others made up new constellations.
So did I.