Death to bright stars

Can anyone hear how sad I am?

Distant stars squander their chances to sparkle for me.

The apocalypse is on the edges of my front door, notorious for invading

My happy space.

Sometimes my scathing voice feels on mute, or carried by a restless wind.

Either way, I have learned

Some stardust always shines and dies alone.

2 thoughts on “Death to bright stars”

  1. Yes. sadness like that echoes. Echoes in the chambers of your heart, echoes in this empty room and in my lifeless art.

    Distant as they are they see but cannot speak.

    Meet it there, knife in hand, fight!

    What does it say that this is my happy place…

    Where you speak the wind is meant to paint, try again.

    That’s right. Never alone but in the dark you can’t see who is there. We are all in this sea of darkness if only we had a light.

  2. Your art is not lifeless.
    I am certain your words are more powerful than anything you can imagine.
    I know because you helped me tremendously
    Thank you.

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