We’re dancing beneath ancient stars.
You and I, we’re just a heartbeat in their lifetimes,
how insignificant a few decades is
to something that lives thousands of them.
Do they know we’re here?
Do they know we wish upon them?

Whenever I stand alone beneath the dark sky,
without your voice to tell me stories,
to come up with your own mythologies,
I feel the weight of silence on my shoulders,
but you don’t hear the apologies.
Do you know I’m here?
Is this the cost of my mind?

{I wished upon a star; I wished upon you; my Ariadne but I cut the thread myself, watched helplessly as it was pulled back into the dark before disappearing and I was lost, not even the dim glow of uninterested stars offered as a guide, so instead of looking for a way out, I’m standing still, hoping you send a search party to find me, right where I lost you, clinging on to the horrible hope that, if you do find me and we can’t find you way back to the day, we can at least be lost together, sharing the nightmares, sharing the fear, dancing beneath ancient stars that grant no wishes.}