Enter "The Seamstress"

Planets started as a collection
An exercise when His Majesty tired of staring at his reflection
Pulling out features that might be Mother's
Splashing hands in mirrored galaxies
Realizing rippling mouths
Could not converse
Feeling a twist inside
(That was the Universe's first indication of "hurt")

He had built a glittering empire
Boiling with warmth but bereft of life,
So he unraveled a Red Giant and named it "Seamstress"

She immediately went to work,
First, patching up the black hole that resulted from her birth
He found in her: "service" and "loyalty"
But "reciprocation" was an idea he'd yet to form.

He set his doll to a complex task
Finding him a love that would surpass appreciation

And what started as an earnest journey became a vain experiment
A test to see if she could bring to life something as beautiful as the last whim he had
Ever searching for adoration
For his imagination
Too out of touch to cultivate his creations
All just drifts off
Must be the product of entropy

His Coup 1

Sullen and teary
eyed How did he get here? And
where was his mother?

True Story

I apologize for my elementary language
But I can only tell the story exactly as it happened,
The literal and the literally beautiful
Words I didn't know I knew
Tossed like pebbles at my window
Scratching at my door
Shouting my name in the loudest whispers

Slammed my fist down and scrawled right into my desk
To spite the pain of star light in my veins
Blood impregnated with shafts of light
Hemorrhaging from fingernails
Carved words fill like rivers

Story lies in pools before me
And I relate it back to you