Some nights I can't close my eyes without
seeing everything I feared,
feeling every horrible thing
(every horrible thing, every horrible thing ever)
and I just stare at the ceiling, imagining stars
where our names were written

we carved our names into a tree as well as the stars
we tried to be like the movies, and in a way,
it was even better than the movies
but I can still remember the feel of your lips against
mine as I stare up at that ceiling and wish
I could feel the way your body moves again,
just one more time to say goodbye
to the way you felt.

Some nights I look up at the real stars,
where my dreams lay,
and on the heels of my bare feet (the grass is cool, and keeps my raging fever from
growing to the size of the sky)
and I wonder if you're somewhere
looking up at them too,
and if the moonlight is kissing your lips as I once did
but I do not miss you, because after a while,
the strength drained out of us, and we were only met
at the lips, and never eye to eye

when I first met you, I first noticed your eyes.
that's why it was so hard when we never met eye to eye anymore
your eyes shone out in the darkness I walked in
and I knew that I had to have you near me.
you must've thought the same thing because you never
let go of me until we both realized that it was over,
that we would be stuck looking up at the sky
with a telescope of feelings,
wanting the way our eyes first met back.

but it wouldn't happen,
so I've chosen to pretend that,
like our love,
the stars have burned out.
its over.