Lessons You Shouldn’t Learn From a Supernova

Photo by Tengyart on Unsplash

once upon a time
i was a planet.
i was dark, and i was sad, and i was lonely.
i needed a friend, a sun to bring me life.

once upon a time
there was a star,
and she was full of life.
she was bright, and fun, and she always carried two
sparklers with her wherever she went.

once upon a time
the planet and the star met.
and we got along fine.
we had parties in asteroid belts and drank space champagne
with pluto and his pals
but that star, she always told me she was looking
for something.

once upon a time,
i looked up to a star who wore rose-red aviators, prescription hindsight.
she revolved in orbits i wasn’t allowed to follow, missed our parties
for dates with destiny,
but she always promised me she would come back,
and she was there with a kiss goodnight when my hemispheres went dark.

once upon a time
the star ran away to find her something
and she never came back,
lost to the galaxies.

once upon a time
i was a planet
spinning by on my axis of reinstated loneliness,
holding a sparkler in my hand, and waving at friends who rotated past me,
reflecting the glow of a heavenly body systems away,
and i spun right past her event horizon,
the point of no return.

i was back with her again,
and i should have felt relief, should have felt warmth,
only her light had gone out
but for a ring of fire around the edges that served as
more of a warning.

i guess she never found what she was looking for.

About Rachel Pahl 423 Articles

Rachel Pahl is a senior at Clayton A. Bouton High School, where she serves as Editor-in-Chief of The Blackbird Review.