to a lonesome child

my dear I hope
you find and know
someone will think what makes you fall to the brink and what makes you shrink
is brilliant and hot pink atop your head they can see your nature, it's beloved to
that chosen few they will leave but you will never cease you don't have to please anyone, just be and they will come with ease
i would listen to you tell me about the density of a black hole and the fact of a supernova
of one-point-seven and the Pandorica of a Rust-y Mid-Tower Unite
of a Paper hero and how to fold a wheel to ride upon
of bats abound and fans, the sound of disconnected boards
i would tell you how they hear it now
that glaring golden star it has been there in your hands and
you do not have to hide it upon your face atop your helm within your mind
your words are loved there's more to find do not give up
your autistic sunshine