Tuesday, November 22, 2011


Sit outside under the night sky
Can you see the stars?
Because I can't
And it hurts to pretend that they are not there
When really they are hiding from me
It has long since ceased to be a game
I will fade away for want of them

But I can do without
Closer comforts be:
There is the tree burning gold by streetlight,
The clean pure cold, the shifting trees,
And the night like a beating heart

Surely there are those with need far greater than mine
Surely the old stars have seen hurts a thousand times deeper
Surely they are tired of our thin faint prayers
Surely I am as invisible to them as they are to me


Written last month. Thoughts?

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