A Constellation of Stars

it is a game of connect the dots

that only i can see

my forearms

pinpricked like the night sky

the closer i look

the more stars i can see 

dotting the blue river of my veins

collecting into my own milky way

spreading across both forearms and up the back of my hands

a few escaping

to brighten the paleness of my inner wrists

my stars are white 

from the passage of time

but that doesn’t quite mask 

the short burst of pressure and force 

that sparked their formation

no one told me that each time i left the hospital

i’d be carrying a new star

so now

when the IV team enters the room

i close my eyes and pretend 

a new star is being added to the galaxy of my arms

and 

as i wait for the doctor 

i begin to play

a game of connect the dots 

with the stars that only i can see

drawing new constellations

with the stars

the scars

i carry with me