If you know me well enough

You would know

That I draw stars on my hand


If I run out of room

I keep going

On every surface

The table

Your paper

Your hand

Now, no one knows

That each star I draw

No matter how big or small

Has a meaning

An emotion

A thought

I might draw a star if I’m feeling lonley

Itll be my friend

Or maybe Im angry

I can sketch it onto my hand

You see what worries me most

Is that I see them less and less

Im starting to not draw them

Which isnt for the best

You see my stars help me control my emotions

And now they are piling up

Ready to be spilled

At any moment, abrupt

So if you find me

dead in the sand

I’ll bet you

There are no stars

On my hand

(If you ever meet me there will absolutely be stars on my hand (I hope))

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