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Thinking.
Can't stop thinking.
Think of you.
This.
That.
That Life.
That day.
That dream was mine.
A utopian dream.
Your aura; struck me like lightning to a tree.
Pointy, like a star, you shone.
So bright, yet not shining as a star would,
But as apparent as white chalk on a blackboard.
You would not show off like a star.
Yet you did burn so hot,
so fiercely,
so explosively -
you were a star in my eyes.
But like all stars, you died.
That gas was gone.
No pull between us.
The atmosphere was dryand I began to choke.
I was taken from my star - like a child being taken from its poor,drunken mother -
I did not know what was happening.
Dazed.
Confused.
Without true reality,
I there sat.
Wondering.
The end of my world had only just begun, with yours beginning.