Starry-eyed

To live in a place with a million stars,
Each, bold with colored fire,
Cut to burn eternally, however soft.

A million- touchable, real,
no numbers, once lost, no grief
To bear such a burden.

One million, and I will fly
Where no one can reach or grab me,
For this is the fall.

Becoming, Permanently

I live- but a ghostly reflection,
A phantom body
Of what I could be (and am).

I thrive- but an endless struggle
Beneath the clearest understanding,
The sheer clarity,
Like a sky on the sky.

I search- but a puzzling treat
To what I already know-
To savor, to redraw the choices.

I am a moving magic,
An ongoing revolution- to define,
Redefine my change, I say!

I am not perfect, but I,
I am to stay this way.

Me

In the void, I find solace
And solace never void.
Empty, boundless, flooding
Potential to be toyed.

The rush of life is silent
Thoughts halted in their flow.
All but a hollow drip.
Persistent leaks echo.

But all the world is mine to see
In the rustle of a pen.
All the moments in between
The who, what, and when.