Stars

I found this hidden in the deep recesses of a sketch book. I wrote it years ago, but oh well. A couple of the sentences at least are worth sharing.

"A shooting star passed over me and I was tangled in regret. I never wished upon that star. I only thought of you. This shooting star in a darkened sky where a full moon was lit. I stood on the edge, looked over the fence, and thought to jump. What would happen if I fell? Would you be there to catch me? How do you catch what doesn't exist? I am nothing but a faded glimpse of an otherworldly love that had never transcended. This light passes through, but not into me. All seems lost.

I was thrown into the sky by the heavens and then fell into the earth. I possessed no soul for saving, no heart for breaking. That shooting star passed beyond my reach and I tried so hard to feel its pulse that I jumped right over the edge. So I did fall until falling stopped and the glow surrounded city lights.

I died in the arms of this shooting star where no heart sought to feel. I died in the arms of a ghost I knew who knew me to never be real."

Now that I've typed it up I feel ashamed of it. Human emotion is so frustrating, yet ever so satisfying.