The Stars I Saw
I haven’t looked into the sky for ten years; my darkened eyes glazed down heaving on all ashtrays everywhere I look. But then I did see the stars, in Canada. I looked into the sky and the little torches were glowing and I imagined all the fire and brimstone of those suns. I looked away.
Yes, my head wavering toward the ashtray for ten years, my eyes spilled into the burns. I looked again a moment ago, having a cigarette, and the stars were more distant, harder to get into my heart but all the more beautiful.
I haven’t smiled for ten years.
I haven’t laughed for ten years.
I haven’t cried for ten years.
The ghost has been given, taken, ripped out of me like the blade of a serrated knife. Scar tissue covers my soul and I imagine it will always be that way for me.
But I saw the stars and I smiled and I laughed and I have not cried, not yet, not really and my being suffers for it.
don’t won’t make empty promises but the elixir that I’ve been poisoning myself with for ten years is gone.
And now I see the stars again.