Magical, strange, an abyss one does not know how to voyage across.

The space between our stars is the space between our hearts, and we can’t comprehend that one day our bright lights will burn out.

And when they do, the Earthlings won’t see it for years upon years upon years, decades and perhaps centuries will have passed before they realize our glimmer has faltered.

We are supposed to burst in a supernova, blinding the vast galaxies in the ashes we send soaring across the night sky, and our light is a reflection on the dark but we feel of one anyway.

And just because we live to strive of ourselves doesn’t mean we should be taken advantage of, broken and hurting and disowned.

We should live like the sun and the moon, unequal but treated equal, whom we trust all summer, and winter, and warm and chill out hearts down.

The space between our stars is space ununderstood, and we think that it’s the rivalry that matters, but it’s really what holds the rivals apart, differentiates and stands between them, that truly matters.

Because how else can they be separate beings? What else makes us unique?

No reply. Let’s watch the stars.