Sometimes, I wish
upon every star in the
Moonlit sky that you
were among them.

In the heavens,
you'd rest.
Your soul would not
grow weary as it does on Earth.

You would no longer
drift away from the part
of you that was once loved.
You may not know it yet,

but the ones you would
leave behind were already
left behind the first time
craters broke plaster and

that first time you crushed
the finch.
You have been bereft of
life for a long time now.

But no one has been
able to mourn your passing
for your newly sewn soul
still spills out on Earth.

So yes, sometimes, I wish
upon every star in the
Moonlit sky that you
were among them.

But only because you have long since left.