I told you you’ll be a star, but I take it back.

It’s not something you lack, no;

I’d just rather not hand out with a big ball

of flaming magma that might fall

into itself at any given time.

Oh God no.

And I still want to be able to see

after look at you, and a blindingly

bright light sounds blinding to me.

I don’t want you to be miles and miles

from your home and your family and earth while

I need a telescope to see you.

I don’t want you to be an enigma

of science, I don’t want you to have the stigma

of being cliche.

So don’t be that.

I hope you won’t be that.

Please: be space.

Don’t give me space, though–

I want to be able to see you

without looking away

night and day.

I want to see you all around,

up and down the sky.

You wouldn’t be under pressure all the time,

and you wouldn’t be able to blind

anyone. I don’t want to need a rocket ship

to be able to chase you down.

Because I know who you are,

and so I want you to be everyplace–

Please don’t be a star.

Be space.

Author: Nina

I am a creative writer and coder. This whole website is just a place for me to experiment. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns please email me at: Writer@GirlWriter.com. Check me out a GirlWriter.com/about-me

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