Pretty Moths pt.2 | A Poem

 I find comfort in metaphors,

I look at stars hanging my legs off a window,

just like a moth, a disconcerting metaphor

and wonder do stars look back at us the way we

look at them,

with hope, with enthusiasm, with wonder.

Do they break themselves intentionally

with a purpose, to make us a wish.

My words are constellations

that makes pattern across the sky right beneath the

brain and above the heart, a dangerous metaphor.

I find comfort in metaphors

and just as a moth dies in search of light

I will die trying to put her in the poetry


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