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You were a little girl once
Weren’t you?
Weren’t you a child that delved into books?
Delved into the knowledge of the beings above?
Of the things that are bright?
Of the things that twinkle in the sky,
Almost like how when you were in your crib
Looking above to the thing that dangled above?
You were an adventurer once
Weren’t you?
Weren’t you one that wanted to cross the world?
Not the world
Your parents wanted you to cross the world
You wanted to cross the stars
You wanted to cross the thing that seemed so beautiful to you
Why couldn’t the others see that?
Why couldn’t the others see the things you found so gorgeous?
Why did they call you weird instead?
Why did they call you odd?
Why were you told that you were different?
Different.
You were an astronaut once
Weren’t you?
Weren’t you the one who wanted to board a ship
A plane
Anything
To see the night sky?
To see the horizon?
To observe the galaxy?
Didn’t you want to observe?
What had happened to take this path?
It’s a dangerous path.
What you’re doing is dangerous, my child.
My little girl.
Traveling through space means you stay there for years.
Aren’t you afraid of how long you stay?
But you,
My shooting star,
Had said you wanted to become the stars.
You wanted to be with the stars.
You would stay in the never ending gravity for eons
If it meant you could stay with such beautiful things
And now, you do stay.
You stay.
You are now 15.
You are now no longer reading the books you were given.
You are no longer an astronaut.
Were you an astronaut?
Were you meant to stay in place
Or to float in nothingness?
Are you nothing?
R, that stands for relevant.
O, that stands for observant.
X, that stands for xenon.
Y, that stands for youth.
But none of that means anything.
Does it?
Would your name write with the stars?
Tell me, Roxy.
If the stars were made to connect,
Why couldn’t you?
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