On (Res)cue

There are twirling planets on the end of every eyelash you bat at me,

Shining with little people, that destroy, little people that love.

I don’t know if you could destroy me

Or maybe you already have,

But I’ve carved into my own planets, symbols to communicate

How much your gravity affects my solar system.

That a collision of such forces could be for the greater good.

But you’re passing by, like a torrid comet.

The planets spin on, with or without me.

Sometimes it’s unbearable to think that.


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