Lament of the Astronaut

What is it like

when the thing that held you... 

the structure, the bedrock,

the gravity that kept the stars from leaving... 

simply isn't?

 

When the wall that caught your wonder

folds in like paper to flame.

A gust…

A host of candles snuffed in an unseen breath.

 

You stand in the afterglow...

no smoke, no wax, no warmth.

Only the absence

that has always been there,

shaped like presence.

 

What if the thing greater than you

was never about you?

What if you were always

the cost,

not the calling?

 

They said it was for the greater good.

They said your silence was noble,

your absence meaningful.

You removed your helmet anyway...

a birthday balloon drifting where no one sings.

 

But the airlock didn’t wait for poetry.

The breach came quick.

So sudden.

So quiet.

And then…

only the hum of forgotten stars.

 

I float now,

weightless in a suit I didn’t choose,

watching the planet glow with the party lights

I’ll never reach.

 

They dance.

They sing.

They raise glasses to the sky.

But not for me.

Never for me.

And still… I orbit.

A candle that was never lit.

A gift returned to sender.

The game was never mine.