Tiny Star

[Miley]

Endless layers of black silk drapes; the shadows.
Separate, small, unsafe space.
A beacon, a beam, of pure white hot impurity.
Drawn in, crossing an event horizon long before awareness,
Long after warning.

Bodies cropped into little frames,
Little portions of littler people.
A subject unknowing, thus unwilling.
Those frames scattered across the universe,
Millions of shameful stars.

Keep your head down.
The sky tells the stories of your misdeeds.
You fucked up wretch.
Here’s a constellation of your form.
A whore.

The language here is very over the top, I think this is probably the poems strength and weakness haha! Millions, universe, endless, etc the black silk, the pure white light. Its anything but subtle.

Otherwise, its hard to pull all the pieces together I git the gist of the images and the vibe which does operate on a sort of galactic/intergalactic scale.

The turn to this person (women?) in the end is surprising, I can't tell if the narrator is pointing towards the author here, in a bit of self degradation or someone else.. with stuff like "incels" in the air (atleast here in the usa) the anger towards the end leaves the poem feeling not so great foe me! I'm really not sure the intention here though... my 2cents anyway, thanks thanks for sharing!