I didn’t see us
as a moonshot
until the remains of our fallout
floated up
reminding me of what I risked
to have you
only for it
to mean nothing
in the end.
I became your gravity
and you hoped that
I could stabilize you
but even my pull
couldn’t hold you down.
even my safety
couldn’t carry the weight
of all your secrets.
you shot for something life-changing
but never checked the fuel
before we flew.
you couldn’t land us.
maybe you never meant to.
I paid for your mistakes
and now I’m loose
at high altitude
without a way to descend
because I never learned to stand
on solid ground.
I think I know why
you haven’t contacted me.
because it would mean
acknowledging the space
between almost
and never.
the moment
when we ran out of air
and the airlock shut tight.
so you don’t try at all.
you remove the temptation
not because you don’t care
but because you care too much
to let me go.
I understand.
even as we used up our oxygen
I reached for more.
now
suspended in space
surrounded by debris
I reach for the moon.
not because
I think I can touch it
but because
I need to remember
what it felt like
to have it.
it won’t work
but maybe
that’s the point.
clutching the last vestiges
of connection
knowing the mission will fail
but launching it anyway.
it doesn’t make the courage to love
any less real.
any less worth
the risk.
----K. Rowan, 27/11/2025
Theme : Self, Others -- Heartbreak, Courage