“Stars” by Andrea Hornbaker

When I reach for you,

I get stars instead:

illuminating my hands

blood glowing

a beautiful red,

beautiful scream,

beautiful death,

what a terrifying dream.

This is me,

drawing breath,

cutting down

fences, walls, voices.

When I call for you,

exhaling into black,

light is something

I lack.

When you are not here,

I live in a void.

I am negated.

It all becomes clear

when you are not here,

when I reach for you

and get stars instead.

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