No. 03: Astronaut

Right now, I wish I was an astronaut,
and you were left alone on Earth—
just so I didn’t have to feel
the anchor pulling me into the ground,
each pull reminding me
of the hammer you took to me.

I’m wishing you were the one left adrift,
and I was in a state of weightlessness.

Right now, I wish I was an astronaut,
and you were left alone on Earth,
so you could know
how it feels to walk and be vulnerable—
to know what it’s like
to be tethered to you,
my make-believe lifeline.

Right now, I wish I was an astronaut,
floating beyond the reach of your gravity.
Out here, in the uncharted expanse,
your presence feels like cold comfort,
but still doesn’t sting
quite like your absence did.

Right now, I wish I was an astronaut,
with the stars as my companions,
each one a distant light,
reminding me
there are far greater feelings
than the pain you left behind.

I am like an astronaut,
communicating with Earth
in broken connections,
delayed messages.

Then again, is it delay,
or was the message ever sent?
One thing I know:
some signals are meant to be lost—
and that’s a silent blessing.

© 2024 Tahlia Ariana. "Astronaut." All rights reserved.