poison star

daylight resembled crushed calla lily petals and
pixy stix candy as it ruptured into dust upon the skyline,
performing a final striptease on my window
and peeking through the curtains while
dancing to the intonation of
the early morning rain

you were my first taste of summer,
riding shotgun with catastrophe
as memories quickly faded
against the rear-view mirror

you were black ink and mood swings,
an unwritten 7am catharsis about
the end of something beautiful
as birds murmured your epitaph
and killed yesterday with
the last paragraph

you were twenty-two minute confessions,
the boy diseased with the kind of
slow cancer that didn't know
how to define

us

and even if the stygian night becomes another
citation to four shots of pepsi tequila,
you will always be my toxic moon
and i will constantly be
your poison star

.
.
.