No one realizes how truly amazing someone is

until they are gone.

Then we compute and over-analyze to understand

exactly where we went wrong.

The problem is- we live in our own little worlds

Worlds so unhappy and unfair

that we forget about the planet-next-door

We forget that someone else is hurting there.

 

So we promise ourselves that

we’ll travel towards these planets

but we get distracted by the vast depths of space.

And when we finally reach that foreign surface

We’re greeted by a fake smile

and assume that nothing’s out of place.

 

Among the stars and all the scars,

we seek to satisfy our own souls

Ignoring self-destruction, supplying self-denial

the cataclysmic cosmic nosebleeds

occurring in the gaps we choose not to see

All of our catastrophes indefinitely

being swallowed up by black holes.

 

Still, we settle back on our cozy home planets

we close our eyes and go to bed

Unaware that dreams of death and doom

orbit around our neighbor’s heads.

And when they check out of the galaxy

when they cease to make a noise,

We begin to criticize the constellations
and wonder why they made such a dismal choice.

 

After all, they seemed so happy

yes, and objects in the mirror are often closer

than they appear

Our lives are merely echoes bouncing off walls of illusion

all too quick to fade away

all too quick to disappear.

 

“They were so amazing,”

we say kind words in order to comfort ourselves

We’re struggling to find warmth in a blanket of shame

for we know that if we allow our neighbor’s planet

to become a distant constellation,

then we deserve to lie in a bed of blame.