If thoughts were stars,
My mind was the infant night sky,
And you were the astronomer
Who put together constellations.
If thoughts were water,
My mind was a stormy ocean,
Waiting to pull me under,
And you were my boat
If thoughts were tears,
My mind cried every night,
For something it couldn't have, you,
But you were the shoulder it would cry on.
But now my stars have no form,
The waves are pulling me under,
And my pillow catches my tears.
My astronomer, my boat, your shoulder; gone.
Share This Poem