i often dream of heaven
to me, it's being alone with
the stars and you
that feeling of bliss is always enough
to make me think i'm there
when I look at the sky
i think of the milky way.
i think of the way i made you laugh
enough to spill milk from your nose.
it's those kinds of moments that your eyes shine.
the heat of summer
sizzles around us, mixed with
all of our bittersweet memories,
and all of our waxwork'd pain,
(because we both have extra slabs of each)
i remember you saying
that one of these days
you would leave this place
(sometimes I thought you meant
to leave me behind)
i tried to give you a star once,
when we were seven (but i know you don't remember.)
i named it sprinkles, and
colored a certificate, only to find out
someone had already bought it...
(that was the worst day yet
because i knew the only thing
left to give you was my heart
[and it was already shattered to
pieces on the floor before you]
but you won't pick up "junk")
alone with the stars,
and you, is the place for me.
i can't tell whether you want me,
or if i'm on the same level as a star;
one can look but not approach.
but don't stars need love too?