How could loneliness define

My soul’s worth,

The way I pull my feet slightly higher off the dirt

And my chin goes more towards the heavens,

No human should possess such power or arrogance

To let their paws push it back down towards my chest.

But either way my heart still beats off-rhythm,

A waltz that I hear in the quietness;

One that should not be stopped

By side glances or cold shoulders;

No one’s mediocre joke at my expense

Erases the fact that the milky way

Chose to put me here -

At this moment

Picked me specifically to breathe.

 

I am the masterpiece of the galaxies

Every random implosion was meant for me, a gift packaged with a big bow for me,

And each time the universe’s right hand swooped together stardust

To form the sea

It was doing so with me in mind

How can I forget that I’m made of stardust,

When I shine so bright I cast a shadow on the sun?

And why do I diminish myself so,

Based on whether or not some stoner

Gives me their stamp of approval?

There never existed a more permanent reason

To seek a higher purpose

Than randomness.

I see myself in the sea foam, in red leaves and cherry blossoms

In graveyards and playgrounds and sandcastles

When the moon waxes and wanes I rise and fall to match her.

How could loneliness define

My soul’s worth

When my soul is a shooting star

Landed on Earth?

I’m tired of being defined by standards

That aren’t crafted by me,

I know my heart and I know my soul.

I know who I am and what I believe.

Another human life cannot erase the constellations

In my guts.

 

I am perfectly human,

Perfectly flawed,

With no control over emotions

Or understanding of others’ faces.

But I am perfectly stardust, perfectly stardust, perfectly stardust.

I am made of big stuff.

Big stuff for a big heart.

Big stuff for a big soul.

 

And if that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to be joyful,

Then what does?