Undeclared Major http://www.undeclaredcomics.com/2011/11/18/my-shower-routine/
Listen to Einstein
I used to be okay with loving like the moon
loves the earth
238,900 miles away
around and around.
And then I felt the thousands of telescopes on me
and I thought I needed to be held all the time,
but when I crashed into someone’s arms
I’ve always left craters and rubble.
I never knew my own size—my own weight.
I never knew the impact I left.
I was a meteor but I wasn’t beautiful—
I carried a tail of sparks and destruction
like tin cans on strings hung from my back bumper
without ever looking back
and I always left the wedding leaving him standing alone.
All the stargazers left me narcissistic
and I thought I made my own light—
but I was just rock borrowing sunlight.
Now I want to love like the sun loves the earth
and lend my warmth and light and ask for nothing back again.
I’m okay with feeling the fireflies flitter inside my belly
knowing you feel nothing at all.
I want to feel the heat in my cheeks
even if yours are cool.
I don’t want to revolve around you though.
I can bear this one-sided love of a planet
but I’ll stand still
—no more chasing.
Maybe to shine like the sun you need to be humbled—
and rejected by earth.
All the eyes can admire the moon
that borrows the silent shimmer of the sun—
but no eyes turn to stare down the actual star
—direct sunlight scars.