Star Stuff

A blurry sort of evening 
In the way where the sky
Becomes the land
And all you were thinking 
You forgot

And the water starts to fall 
So you fall with it
Wash me down the street 
Into the gutter
Drain pipes clogged 
With rude peoples' shit 
And wasted potential

Pat me dry until I sparkle 
Like eyes surrounding you 
And the moon is a crescent 
for now

And the night is still blurry

My eyes tired 
Kind of heavy

This lighter works
If all else fails
When the sky becomes translucent
and all the remnants of star stuff explode 
Leaving us down here
And all I was thinking disappears

But I still see a sparkle 
Still see the horizon

Never gone 

Never forgotten

This blurry sort of evening

Sibel Atalay is a writer based in Wellington, New Zealand. Their writing captures the art of desperately trying to find yourself amidst crowds and cityscape realities.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sibthedude/