The stars shine brighter than the books say they’re supposed to
And the tall grass ain’t as green as the other side had proposed
I was too drunk to see the starshine
In the daytime I saw their glimmer spark and melt into some bronze eyes
Two rings of lulled dreamscapes I near missed when I fell into a low tide
I writ in song so that the stanzas, you can’t read them, but you listen
Can you smell the vodka in the lines I’ve slowly written?
My grammar is too impaired, my vocal chords show their ripping from acidic potions
A mix of melancholy and packed-away wishes
Hope for natural light, surely it’s prettier in some valleyed eyes
And I could dream of that scene in the dead of every night.
On a new morning, I could see straight as I lock my knees
That the stars’ gold shines bright over rosed cheeks
In the absence of all, too long I heard the rapids roar
Trying to sleep faster than the moon pushes its seashells ashore
On this Field Day, I promise to show new colors, I writ
“I can’t depict scenes that live outside my eyelids.”
In the vacant space that is my head, the somber sky
One violet, one tired, hoping to see me still alive
It finally pried with the hook of a crescent moon
It done pulled at my arms and knocked out a front tooth.
The stars seared the skin of my ribcage
I would feel solar arches tighten and burn around my thinned waist.
I never learned how vital feelings were until I needed them
That the soul will always search for another to grant it freedom
And the starshine is brighter than the books had promised me
That even light bleeds through the darkest forests’ canopies.