Monster Made of Stardust
my entry for the "Masks We Wear" challenge
Certain mornings the Sun hits the bathroom just right
and I can look myself in the eye without having to think
anything, but how the light shines through my iris,
making it look like perfectly blown Murano glass.
On those mornings, I stand in awe and wonder how my eyes
seem to hide a whole universe made of stardust like
the stars and planets, the Milky Way and far away galaxies.
And tears flood my vision as I wonder:
Why I can't be just as beautiful?
Why can't I shine so bright and be so magical and magnificent
like the night sky and its constellations?
Instead, I'm trapped in this skin-bag, hiding what I was made of,
because too much stardust, when mixed with tears
turns to mud—
ordinary, boring mud
nobody cares about, nobody wants and
everyone avoids.
Though it contains life itself —
Earth—
that can build and destroy.
Then why am I so afraid to look me in the eyes, on days
when I can't see the stars inside me?
When my eyes look like the surface of the Moon—
green moss, lined with a single golden thread, shadows spotting its surface.
Imperfect, inscrutable —just like my soul, my mind.
So I close my eyes, hiding those dark spots that I'd prefer
to illuminate with an artificial Sun, that never goes down,
so no one would ever notice they exist.
Blind them!
So they can't see
what really is inside of me.
What a monster it might be, that thing
that hides in those folds and shadowy spaces,
deep, beneath the surface
that scares me, even
on gloomy days when the Sun doesn't hit
the bathroom just right, and laughter and joy
are absent in my house, my temple.
When the dark seems to grow and takes over
my mossy green, stardust eyes and the golden thread
just seems rotten and spoiled.
When the monster wakes and overtakes,
turns my heart into obsidian,
when she shows her teeth, or makes a growl,
poisons my mind with murderous thoughts,
ill-wishes, and curses so dark they make
a black hole look like a shining star.
I'm scared.
(I'm scared. So very scared.)
What would she do if I ever let her out?
What would happen if anyone sensed
the slightest hint of her existence?
So I put on a bright, fake smile, mascara and glitters
to blind everyone who looks are me —
even if it's only me, on days
when the Sun doesn't hit the bathroom just right—
and hope to hide what really lives behind these starry eyes.
Because even I am afraid of that monster, made
of stardust —yet so hideous, that
no one could ever love.
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Comments (19)
"Why can't I shine so bright and be so magical and magnificent like the night sky and its constellations?" - You can, and you also made it through this poem. We are all made of stardust, quite literally, if I'm not wrong. This poem is so beautifully written, vulnerable, exposed, lyrical. It takes courage to publish something straight out of your heart like that. ♥️
This is a stunning read Imola. Well done on placing top story
Well-wrought! Beauty is in the experience of the knower, as I like to say. I find it often in idle and quiet moments, existing, when the perturbations of the electromagnetic meat-bag mercifully phase out...
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
I sometimes wonder if this is just one, dark creature that looks out from all of our eyes. Perhaps the despair we feel belongs to it, and it just radiates through us when it pays a visit. Beautifully made, as always. Congrats on top story!
I love the path this took. It's such a raw, honest poem. Loved it! Congrats on the Top Story!
So powerful, congratulations on this amazing piece and being top story, simply such powerful words.
Congratulations on top story! The stardust mixed with tears line— ugh! Chef’s kiss!
It's amazing.
Beautifully written - you really captured internal conflict. The dark side is usually a muddy mixed up mess Shakespeare captured the Caliban in the Tempest-- that you capture in this poem. Congratulations on top story!
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It's amazing.
Your writing beautifully explores the tension between self-acceptance and fear of one’s inner shadows. Each line feels raw, introspective, and powerfully relatable.
What a mesmerizing piece, Imola—your words pulled me right into that bathroom mirror, staring at the cosmos in one's own eyes. I love how you weave stardust into mud, turning something celestial into the raw earth that holds both creation and chaos
I love this. "too much stardust, when mixed with tears turns to mud— ordinary, boring mud nobody cares about, nobody wants and everyone avoids. Though it contains life itself — Earth— that can build and destroy." Wow.
Wow, this is powerful. I loved the imagery, I could see and feel every shift from light to darkness.
This was so poignant, deep, and beautifully written. Loved your poem!
Just breathe, that's all we can do
I think we all have days or so like these, but one must learn to take a breath let it out and see and really look. Good job.