Millions, maybe billions of light years away… that’s where we became.
And where we remain… she said “don’t rely on the beams from past lives.”
Starlight told me to “love thyself… ” but how could I, when she makes the stars shine?
For you it’s enough, as you unknowingly twinkle, twirl, making magenta moons swirl.

As I bleed away pleading fate, from love comes fleeting states of seething hate; dreaming of lakes sweet to taste, scenic space - now a salted sea of waste.
Visceral, liquid fuelled autocracy.
Fire bathed knives designed to autopsy, then cremate.

As I start to cut apart the scarred, charred parts of my heart; sever and carve the delicate interconnecting, yet separate paths which were harmed.
I flinch within an inch of my life.
Tranquility’s whim dances and sings before my eyes.

“Maybe, perhaps, potentially…” she said, “it’s all in your mind.”
Reality snaps; rubber-band: “stretch your existential malleability.”
This isn’t a sinking, drinking end: “you can navel gaze, or navigate poison.”
Starlight said “you can wish upon things which went, or live now instead.”

Then… she was gone.
Leaving the blackest, darkest, coldest morn.
Untraceable trails of light to spark.
Weeping scars for stars in the skies above.
Time, and anything bright is up. 
So at first strike… the night’s so dark.

 
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