I once wished upon a star,

Above all I ached for the reach.

555, a constant loop in me.

My mind was ready, so were my wounds.

I wanted to heal so quickly that I pushed down the blues.

Then one September night, I fell to my knees.

My wishing star had finally came to me.

A tall man made of iron and sweet words to soothe my pain.

So open and vulnerable, ready to give me all.

Life is funny, kind of torture too.

Because with a wishing star you have to keep it in you.

Without a wish where is life? Where is hope, faith, love and support?

Sometimes we wish on silly things but, lucky for me I keep mine tight.

Holding,

Holding,

And now the star is falling.

That star I wished upon is still bleeding with my wounds.

If wishes fell like rain, then certainly I am a storm.

But without the storm where is that beaming rainbow?