stars.
you said that we were
meant to be,
that we were
written in the stars.
"there's no gene for fate"
you said
when i protested.
and for an instance,
i forgot
that i don't believe in fate.
i lent you my dreams.
so we sat
and gazed at the stars.
"our stars,"
you said.
you told me i'd go there
someday.
and i believed you.
the dawn came
(tragically)
the sun is a hateful creature,
it brings light,
but it is an envious light
that blots out the stars,
our stars,
with its malicious pride.
the sunlight creates shadow
where there was none before.
when we were found out,
at least, when i was,
i could have died,
i could have killed—
and nearly decided on both;
there was no happy medium.
no compromises.
(just compromising situations)
but instead of settling
for less than first-rate,
i'm leaving now,
leaving for the stars;
i'm sorry, jerome,
you're just
s · e · c · o · n · d
b · e · s · t
a/n-- yeah... the content's a bit out of my norm, and the title's kinda cliche. i started with the last four lines and worked through the rest in sections. it was fun... i love gattaca. thanks for reading! xoxo-xan