you
have always looked at Them
as though They were suns in the sky,
so high above your head that even if
you lifted your fingers skyward
and stood on tiptoe, you would only
ever be able to feel their warmth
and admire their light from afar –

and you,
much later, would look into the night and
see Them as stars twinkling amongst each
other, when all you have is yourself
and hollow hands and meaningless matches that
set fire to candles that only last for a moment;
time and time again, you burn with envy
because They create their own light –

your
shoulders always seem to curve
with the weight of gravity recently,
and the ground is all you let yourself
see; you have told yourself to
stop dreaming these days, and this
is the only mistake you have made:
you were not made for limits –

sometimes you
let your tired eyes peer into
shards of looking glass,
and you see yourself as only copper
and Them as golden,
but i assure you that you have
always been made of platinum
and shine just as brilliantly as They do –

and i wish You
could, for a moment, see the world
through their eyes – 
just once would be enough;
i wish You could see that they
view You as a star amongst themselves,
the brightest of them all,
and You have always been my sun.