Member-only story
I Am the Stardust Between Words
Prose Poetry
The magic happens when you least expect it.
It tumbles around inside you, restless and ready to find something to grasp. You never thought yourself special in a world filled with so many who think they are one of a kind — but on days like these you can imagine another world where things might be kinder.
In the silence after a conversation, the sunbursts dance behind your eyes. Fireworks deaden all the noise, and for once you feel safe to walk the world as you wish.
You feel powerful but anxious. Hopeful but wary. Tested but never put to good use.
I am the stardust between words.
The words are lofty, impossible, impractical. Someone of a superhero’s status should say them while standing against the backdrop of a battlefield. You’re lucky falling library books don’t land on your face and break your nose. How could you ever hope to claim such power?
Yet you know the real power is not a talent or a skill or even just a touch of good fortune.
This kind of world will beat you down till you’re ready to crumble into dust. You recognize the pain in others but don’t know how to stop it. Every day is a trial in wound care — but the gaping holes are in the mind and heart instead of on the flesh or in…
