dear stars,
my obsession with something far too grand to comprehend has lead me to a place of death. i am dying. i never could, at the very least, visualize a satisfactory presence. i am nothing without the stars, i feel, though i’ve never meant them. i don’t know what to do without them.
i can’t befriend jupiter. we never hit it off the same. i remember feeling like i was dying. i remember feeling i was never going to come back, but i don’t remember that.
i yelled for some weight. weight i got. the pressures hit greatly in nervous’ hold. i can’t reach for the stars. i-
do you remember the 17th night? it was something special. i remember not coming back. that’s not true. i don’t remember. that is all.
dripping in the elements, i ascended to a higher degree of pain. isn’t it great? i may never feel the sense of dirt again. i tried to shove it up my nostrils. i yearned for the ground, but the feeling lacked reciprocation. i now sit alone without the dirt and without the stars. whose doing was it to leave me with myself? it’s too much for me to handle.
i can’t lose my mind forever, can i? i feel you lose something then it’s gone. how is it in constant motion? this loop extends further than my body can withstand. who am i?
i remember trying to bury a version of me so magilon could thrive. i remember trying to undo my grave for magilon was the next burial. who’s living then?
how do i know when i need to ask more questions? i’ll be honest, no one sounds eager to hear. i can’t lose my mind forever. that would be insanity. i’m far from insane. i’m with the stars. they’ll have the answers for me.
oh my loves. the greatest of my loves. show me the path(s). show me absolutely nothing. the darkness can’t-
i miss the fresh, jubilant night crackers of jupiter. we were great friends once. we got along greatly. along a long stream of meteors i wished to-
i don’t remember. oh stars! oh! oh...why can’t i be...why...why can’t i...jupiter...
with more contempt than i’d ever admit,
-magilon
i’m sorry, i can’t-
i just can’t remember
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4:30 AM
Dear dreamer,
Your poesy... it leaves me speechless, again. It feels like a dance, done in a state so tired that reality and dream blur into each other. A grasping at air, at anything, to find hold back in whatever feels like you.
You feel so very lost that it hurts. I hope that you'll find a path, eventually.
thank you. you worded this very well. specifically, "grasping at air." that heavily resonated. take care.
by magilon; ; Report