Pop Poetry: Supernova

Beau Romanowski, Staff Writer

I know I constantly say this to myself and the people around me, 

But this might be the last time I speak to you,

Or rather, 

Think,

Of, you.

It might be, 

If you’re not on my mind your in my headspace,

Treading on zero gravity because when I get lost in my mind sometimes I feel like I’m suffocating,

Like I can’t breathe.

You’re as if I pulled a constellation out of the sky and tried to guess what it represented.

 

I really like space.

I’m fascinated with it.

 

Part of me thinks that you’re worth holding on to, 

But another thinks I shouldn’t make so many excuses

And see you for who you were when everything ended. 

I think that’s your self-doubt. 

 

I live as though you can read my mind 

The second I got comfortable

You were mad around me.

I felt like an asteroid circling an asteroid revolving around the sun itself

 

So insignificant but the sun keeps the asteroid in line

Keeps it in orbit 

Keeps it from freezing over into the vast cold void of space 

where core temperatures are well below freezing.

 

You probably didn’t know that I still think of you, 

Which is a good thing

I remember how mad you’d get at me for it.

You were probably just as surprised when you became my muse

The only thing more surprising to me was how I didn’t know I could love someone as much as I loved you. I had loved before but nothing like I had with you.

 

My first love was like the collapsing of a star the zealous point is so beautiful but its end is the result of a star running out of oxygen, she felt so suffocated that to me she was a collapsed star

A blackhole that consumed what 

At the time

Was important to me and vaporized into nothingness, 

Vaporized me into nothingness.

 

You were my second love although I loved you like you were my last, for a few months i thought you were. 

The only thing that made me happy when I was so, sad, and lonely.

But the drifting asteroid fell into orbit and i fell in love with you.

The radiation from your stars core changed me for the better.

 

The first time I ever loved it felt like a collapsing star, you were my supernova.

Larger than the sun I personified you as.

Larger than the center of my world 

More like the center of my universe.

But like my first.

Both came to an end and there wasn’t any record of it ever happening in the first place.

I only had my crude memories and deluded daydreams to look back on.

 

I’ve had meteor showers 

Some experience with industrialized metals scraping my galaxy

But nothing has left me with deeper imprints than my first two 

I’m hoping my third love will be more than the first or second or all the meteor showers in between.

 

I don’t want another supernova,

I don’t want a blackhole

                   a collapsing star, 

                   or the endless void of space.

 

I want her and only her.

 

Maybe for my third time falling in love I can be the moon to her earth 

 

Consistent.

 

With mutual dependence. 

Still constantly afraid that I might not be enough to keep her seasons and tidal waves calm.

But not comfortable enough to think that moon dust is worth more than her oxygen.

 

I don’t watch the stars anymore,

I don’t think about the constellations,

I don’t dream about the many many moons.

I’m done watching the sun, the stars, the moons, the meteors.

 

I want to watch out for me, 

Believing the best in people has made me think that I am constantly less than people,

But when I walk and talk and say my peace,

I know it’s where I’m meant to do my time, my sentence,

My smithing, and shifting words to sound like I’m articulate when 

I’m

Just

Me.

 

And I’m trapped because I see all the ways you are bad for me but 

 

I’m working on my third love and she’s 

Everything I didn’t know I needed.