Starstruck

A poem from the bottom of a broken heart

In my life I’ve worked a lot.

Delving through Amazons of paper

kept me from looking at anyone

for too long, the vapor

never lifting, never

allowing me to fall too far

Any dropping in my grades

Snapping my flirting mouth ajar

Connected by our voices and 

a satellite far away

I tried to show through my phone

the stars no longer hidden by day

You couldn’t believe I said the 

constellations truly exist

and I told you a half-baked version

of Orion’s story, but you got the gist

And while I enjoyed the possibilities

of becoming an astronaut, baker or committer of a coup

I was mostly glad that I got to be

starstruck by you

And if you want me to I’ll study

And if you tell me to I’ll grind my gears

And if you compliment me once 

I’ll work for over fifty years

I know she grounds you

She offers steady, sturdy bars

But I’ll work to be an astronaut

In case you still want me to show you the stars

Author's Note

Another painful love poem, all of the love poems ever have been about the same person and the same (my) situation. I’m just so far gone at this point it kills me