This is a poem I wrote the other night. Enjoy.

Glass Mannequins

Humans seem so fragile, even me.
Like glass mannequins, we strive on to be more than just transparent shells filled with hopes and dreams; our lights shining from within, consumed by the blackness of the universe, we go running into the cold dark night searching for what vestige remains of their origin.

Aimless and wanting, we forget.
We forget how fragile we are.
We forget about breaking on our making for the stars.
And in veering far apart,
our lights burn even harder,
until our heated shells of glass turn black and block our every path, obscuring our location,
dimming hopes of rescue.

And so,
all at once,
projections of infinite happiness had scattered the humans amongst the stars, shattering them beyond repair,
where the memory of their pieces longed for a time before the desperate grasping,
back to when the lights had kept them warm
and where together,
their fragility had made them strong.