Supernova

smiling from above
with your glazed eyes
and bruised knuckles

you’re a galaxy, baby,

with lilac and blue
blooming across

milky skin

you’ve always got a quiver
in your voice
and a drumming
against your skull

velvet leaks out the second
you open your mouth

every moment is an epiphany

(the silver-lined smoke that clouds your mind)

you don’t have eyes like stars
or a voice like liquid gold
but that’s alright —

you’ve got strength
a quiet resilience buried
under flesh and bone

the power to silence an entire room

with a single glance

the power to find comfort

in the singularity

a silent rebellion is flaring
in your soul every moment

one that does not require

silken words flowing eloquent off your tongue

a rebellion of the quiet

it claws its way
out of your ribcage

and when you explode, the whole world pauses and trembles —

the force of you
shakes it to the core

blinding brightness —

burning into retinas

but, my dear,
just remember:
that radiance is also
your end