the stars in my hands cut me
as i held them tight
it seemed that all was right

besides the pain
i held them with all my might.

let them go.
they only hurt you.

your hands held enough.

you don’t need to carry them
you don’t have to carry them

they did nothing but to mark you

with patterns that tell a story
a story that you may not like to remember
the past that held your neck
so tight your breath couldn’t last

in the end,
the stars were always yours.