My Love Tells Me I Am Beautiful…

When the gray mornings of a humid, drizzly day cause my hair to frizz and fray.
When my tears leech through my mascara darkened eyelashes in black rivulets down my cheeks.
Before I wash the night’s sleep from my face .
Standing under the harsh truthfulness of white fluorescent lights.
When the stress of the day bows his shoulders down like Atlas.
When the night is dark and the moon has shut its eye to steal the little light it gives.
When I dressed all in white and took his hands for life.
When he wiped the sweat from my brow with the edge of my ugly hospital gown.
When my nose is red and I can’t stop coughing and fever blurs my eyes.
When his voice cuts in and out from the strain of transmitting from thousands of miles away.
When he hasn’t even seen my face for several weeks on end.
My love tells me I am beautiful even when I don’t deserve it.
My love tells me I am beautiful and I am starting to believe him.
Because when he tells me I am beautiful it isn’t what he’s seeing, my love tells me I am beautiful because of what he’s feeling.

Black Hole Pt. 3

Sinking into the nether
Of unexplored
/Absence of space/
Will the light extinguished
Reignite?

Black Hole Pt. 2

No air to breathe
Smothering the flames
Inverting the energy
Of a sun
Collapsing into negative space.

Black Hole Pt. 1

We are stars bursting,
Super novas bleeding out
Cosmic greatness,
Embracing
The darkness of space.