I'm not gonna tell you that you're beautiful
because my words could never be enough
to break the wall of glass
that you somehow think protects you.

I'm not gonna tell you that you're beautiful
because you only hear my words in a way
that makes you think
I'm lying, that I'm always lying,
lying when I look at you and say
'your eyes are endless galaxies'
and I get lost in the twinkling lights
that show up when you smile.

Stars never shine so brightly
as when they're dying,
and I would ride through space to save you,
but still you think I'm lying --
crying wolf as I pull on the Cat's Comet Tail
trying to fly through the asteroid field that guards you,
you,
you beautiful dying star that will never believe
but simply stop trying to shine
to live
to be to be
to be more than what you see
what you see in your reflection.

I'm not gonna tell you that you're beautiful
but I will tell you that you're worth more than worthless,
more than gold
more than the mirror that can never truly
capture beauty, shooting stars concealed
behind your smile
giving glimpses of peace
playing hide and seek behind planets,
flying saucers on a collision course
with icy insecurities.

I'm not gonna tell you that you're beautiful.
You wouldn't believe me,
we've never even met,
but I know you.
I see you.

You can hide behind a screen name
and a smile,
but I know you, know your pain
know that the secrets you hide
behind those lips and the undertones
in the words that you type
say more than you could ever say
ever say
ever say
has anyone ever said that they love you?
Has anyone ever meant it?

You are Pluto, feeling demoted because
of your second-class size
crooked eyes
and imperfections,
but Pluto will ALWAYS be a planet in my book.

You hang out at the outside of the picture,
orbiting around happiness
but just out of reach because you never believe
that it is yours for the taking.

Cold, unloved, unwanted,
Pluto was a place mat
where only the strong survived.
When we were kids,
it marked the start of 'Infinity and Beyond.'

I'm not gonna tell you that you're beautiful,
but every step you take is the start of a new path
that started back in a grade school class
when you couldn't wrap your head around
just how long of a journey it would take to reach
the outskirts of our solar system.
Hell, you thought the two hour ride to
grandma's house was never gonna end,
but you sure wished you could bend the rules
of space and time,
fly to the end of infinity just to see how far it goes.

And you?
You beautiful dying star
shooting through space and all the time
wondering who and what you are
because you just can't accept that
shining brightly doesn't have to mean
that you're dying.

We sent satellites into the sky
and found the edge of our imagination
when we discovered things that we
had never even dreamed,
and, in the same way,
I will send rockets up to find you,
to smash into that glass wall that you
somehow think protects you.

Maybe, in the glimmer of the light
shining off the falling pieces
you'll see beauty in the millions of stars
and realize what you see is your reflection.