Lost in Orbit
Love could never be again, as it was at their best them. She could never be her; he could never be him. They could never exist apart, the way they did in the depths of that love.
Spider spinning wild webs of silver, an immaculate masterpiece to collect the emotions lost; floating in the space that lies between then and now, between what was and is, between the realities of hers and his.
On sunny days, the sun climbs to it’s peak, beaming splintered, shattered light through nature’s shimmery, venomous patchwork. Until the moon builds high in the black night sky, a cataclysmic atmosphere inviting her in.
Across the silence, a faint pulse and barely warm. For she will never be that girl again, and she misses her, loves her, disses her, despises her.
She will never be that girl again, though she loved her own wildness more than he ever could; the depth in which she’d spiral down, down, and drown in love.
She will never be that girl again, her true essence tragically seeped out through tears and sweat, clogged pores and a salty trail to the corners of her lips.
She vaguely recalls her former self but cannot actually find a trace. She cannot recognize herself in the mirror, nor remember her most amorous self between the peaks and valleys of her skinscape. She has left, and left her weak.
And now this obstinate intruder has quietly tiptoed into her frame, stolen her away. She speaks another language. Walks with an off-beat rhythm. Breathes differently.
Homeless. Hopeless. Hardened.
She will never be that girl again. Next lifetime, she’ll be wiser, smarter, stronger. She’ll shed her shield, reclaim her wild, and become wilder still.
Like the rings of Saturn, she wanders in circles, uncovering, discovering and orbiting each earlier version of herself.
She’s a solitary planet, casting shadows, reflecting brightness, spinning time through particles of experience, getting drawn ever closer to her core.
With any hope, she’ll arrive at her centre, calmly, comfortably and at home, for just a moment before she leaves this earth.
