Thinking

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.