Broken Stars

I can’t stop staring at the stars.

I’m drawn to them. I can feel them.

It makes me sad to look at them. They’re beautiful, yes, but they’re not a whole.

They’re a thousand shards, scattered in the dark.

Something broken.

And I can feel it.

I throw my head back, soaking in the sight, and it echoes deep inside me. I stand there till my neck aches and I feel dizzy, but I can’t stop.

Why are they broken?

Why are they scattered?

How did they get like this?

And why am I the only one who sees?

People look at the stars in wonder and awe. They see beauty.

Why can’t they see the brokenness?

Can I see more than they can? Can I see further?

Or maybe I can’t see far at all. Maybe what I’m seeing is right in front of me. I can only see the closest things.

Like my reflection.

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