When a Star Dies
Your molecules bounced around your skin, an aura of anxiety and too much... everything. You radiated sunlight and radioactivity, lighting my world and mutating it. My Gemini dad - the Janus two-faced god of my childhood - I loved you and wanted to punch you in equal measures. You pushed me to the outer limits of myself. Made me achieve - goading, praising, berating, manipulating the best and the worst of out me. Because I am your daughter, kryptonite born of your own D.N.A. We were addicted to each other, I was your heroine and heroin. Now I’m a junkie still spiraling through withdrawal sixteen years later. My skin itches for your intense hugs, my mind crashes for one more debate, and my heart feels cut out. A cookie cutter dad shaped hole slowly bleeding out. When a star dies, it takes the universe with it.
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