You will hurt when a certain stillness turns to silence
and your thoughts become memories
trapped inside you like figurines in a glass case,
delicate and stunning, and reflected in windows behind you.
Halfway through the day, when the sun throws prisms
upon each angle of such memories,
when they look more beautiful than you've known,
smash them, for they were never so lovely.
Maybe they were mistaken for dreams
or wishes you made when you knocked on the heavens.
Then scatter them among the universe.
If you let them go, they will light the night sky.