the boy made of stars
ten is the age of innocence
thirteen is the age it ends.
so maybe it's fitting
that when you meet him,
you are newly double digits
and he is thisclose to be becoming a teenager.
his sisters tells you this
while he's sitting across the room
and you're playing dolls.
you smile at him and he
dolls are stupid.
now you wonder if that was a sign.
when you learn that maybe
people aren't all that great, you are
thirteen and awkward
and he is sixteen and all-knowing.
he's not mean anymore,
but maybe that was better than avoidance.
he kisses his girlfriend
while your heart slowly breaks
over nail polish and his sisters shoes.
he's back from college
and you're all grown up.
because you kiss boys and drink at parties and dance
with those two girls
who are so much easier to be around
now that their brother is gone.
when he sees you
with your long hair & smoky eyes,
and you feel sick,
because this is what it took for him to
the first thing you ask him is
do you remember me
and his eyes are confused
and yours are rolling.
it's so like him to forget
the little girls' heart he broke.
you walk away
because, to you, he is no longer
the boy made of stars.
he's just a boy
with absolutely no shine at all.