Lucing touch

In my saddest times I would take her to the stars.
Escaping reality traveling to depths beyond far.
Then sadness splattered the skies a sad red.
Trying to comprehend the things she had said.

A beautiful relationship shattered into a million memories.
I still dream of her but does she still dream of me?
That once lit moon and stars, always within reach.
Then blood stained emotions cause a breach.

Now she has gone away, perhaps too far this time.
Sitting on a blood soaked moon looking at the signs.
I knew I was good for her, but was she good for me?
And I remain lost in love in this thing we call poetry.