I ache as if I’ve lost a star—
something rare, burning bright,
a light I thought would guide me home.
But when I search the sky,
I find the glow is not gone—
it lingers in my chest,
a quiet fire that was mine all along.
Perhaps I miss the way you shone,
but maybe what I mourn
is the mirror you held,
where I first saw
how radiant I could be.
Aug 22, 2025
Aug 22, 2025 at 4:09 PM UTC
I ache as if I’ve lost a star—
something rare, burning bright,
a light I thought would guide me home.
But when I search the sky,
I find the glow is not gone—
it lingers in my chest,
a quiet fire that was mine all along.
Perhaps I miss the way you shone,
but maybe what I mourn
is the mirror you held,
where I first saw
how radiant I could be.
