You were sick, and we stole all the stars for you. Placed them in our knapsack and traveled all the way up the mountain at midnight. We let the stars out into the very tip-top of the stream, the very point of origin. At the bottom, you sat with your camera and captured the stars making there way through the stream to the very bottom. Before we left, I was sure to add a large portion of the stars back into my knapsack. I didn't want this to be the end of the stars. The picture was beautiful, breath-taking, and we put it in the largest frame we could find in the living room.

Before that, we'd stolen all the music for you. We gathered a big, mesh net, with large holes, and stood along the border of the place where songs play. As they traveled, we swept them up. The prettier the music, the bigger notes, so we caught only the most beautiful of sounds. We made a moat around your house and placed these melodies inside. When we stole the stars, I added the few from my knapsack into the moat as well. The stars sparkled and the melodies resounded and it was a place of peace.

Lastly, we found the feelings. We went to the building in which tension ebbs and flows like the aromas of sweets at the bakery. They were colored with the connotations they implied. We hand-picked the peace, the passion, the joy, the gratitude. They were green, purple, orange, and navy blue. To balance it out, we picked up red anger, black grief, and white innocence as well.

We came home to your moat and poured them in. The sight and sound was beautiful. We were finally finished. We had helped. This was going to be enough to fix you.