soliloquy to sun, stars, and the illusion of solitude.

 Ignore those who yell for the howls to stop-

who curmudgeonly reverberate naysayer interpretations of 

existence undisturbed in favor of nothingness

Is it called comfort to stop questioning what is uncomfortable, 

to turn the other cheek to those who remind us of light, 

lest we feel the heat, lest we steal a sunburnt kiss, 

for fear we’ll peel away the flesh layers we hide behind

“Don’t look directly at the sun”, we’ve been taught, 

 “You’ll go blind”

to the illusion of feeling the same beat, 

when we are not meant to be the same day on repeat.

Why do we only wish on the first star,

When there are so many to appreciate

And seen together, we can wish on constellations?

Together we can see, something beyond just the first star;

Maybe the first star is just a reminder to look out for the others.

Beauty loves company, she is so beautiful and always alone.

Lone star, why do we look to you and find ourselves walking home,

at least getting a bit closer?