Abuse of a Million Craters


Did I imagine love to be anything other than what I always have known?

Of course I did.

As the smallest, I am not the blindest. No matter how close I am to the sun.

Rapid love tilting my horizon.

For here I am, witnessing that level of romance from afar as gravity pulls me swiftly and passionately around the dance that’s in front of me.

Yes, around the merry-go flames of the lover that is rightfully mine.

I’m the lucky one, I am. I am the closest, the closest to her flares.

My surface, proof. A demonstration of abuse.

Barely an atmosphere to breath upon.

A million craters to memorise all of our experiences, permanenting scars.

Toxicity in the form of an exosphere, as if this emotional torture would age me ever gracefully.

And Venus, she weeps for me.

But I can’t let go.

I’m addicted to what I know.

Obsessed upon the idea that I am the luckiest planet in the solar system.

The others talk about how much more there is to love, but they will never understand what I get to have.

The heat of our encounters, the result of our passion melting across my surface.

The proximity of day destroys me, and when parts of I enter its most darkest night, as far as space wants me.. I’m begging for for that second part of my year to end.

Begging to come back to be ruined by your fiery output, craving solar winds that hit degrees of feelings I never want to feel again, yet can’t get enough of.

Venus, she insights me with reflection. To see the universe for what it should be.

She concludes what I have with the Sun was damaged from the first day we met… and yet, the moment she starts versing, she becomes a sound empty in void.

Static into the distance as erotic flares whip my attention back onto that great big ball of energy.

Yet no matter how hard I try, I can’t help but notice the chemistry travelling from Sun to Earth. Another terrestrial with a core to give… can she give as much as I can?

Surely not, my insecurities confirm to me that I am ALL core. I am ALL-giving, and every planet knows that a terrestrial that gives is rewarded with love forever.

Venus attempts to present to me ‘sense’ in that love runs deeper than how much core a planet can provide.

That love is transient in the ability to be creative. To give meaning, to the one that wants to love.

Overdosing on passion and we diminish the ability to appreciate the warmth.

For what the Earth allows gives more purpose to the Sun than that which comes with flings.

And just like that I lose interest in Venus, buried in my denial, expressing of my anger, I go back to comfort within my obsession towards claiming my lover.

As I burn, I also cool inside. As I am abused, I also shrink in size.

And yet, I will never give up, no matter the signs. For the sun grants me life in a way nobody shall ever prize.