January 2013
I am a constellation swallowed by the universe. I belong there and I see beautiful things below me. I saw you and my heart was broken. You looked up and saw billions of other constellations. I looked down and I wished on the stars that crossed my path that you’d look at me, or look for me. You have day and night and I have forever, and there are now lesser days when you look up to look for anyone.
I am a constellation divided by stars. I saw you and I fell deep into the Earth. Now I am here and you, too. And I forgot where I belong because the universe was suddenly small. I looked up and wished on the stars that crossed the vast, dark sky that you’d look at me. We have day and night and I no longer have forever, and no one looks up anymore.
I am a constellation. And you are the universe. I saw you and I died.
You walked away. And I cannot go back to where I belong. Stars stopped crossing my paths and I stopped wishing because I know you’ll never look for me.