I’ve always been yours to love
but never your first choice
and now I think I realize
that you are afraid of loving me
because I’ve always been
a little more astronomical than terrestrial,
a little more written word than spoken,
a little more soft curves than jagged edges;
My “I’m sorry’s” used to stem from
the very depths of who I am but
now I am sorry for those
who choose not to lay their
head in the whirlpool galaxy
of my arms and pry their hands
from the electricity in my fingertips,
peeling their mind away from the
floating rose petaled brain I swim in.

I am lightning and fire and
stars and you will never be
able to hold me in your arms.