the stars

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i found myself staring into the night sky,
wondering if the stars had already perished,
if maybe they still lived as bright as i witnessed,
or if they had given up on both death and life.

there was a thin line between the two—
the stillness.

stillness,
ever so stiff,
witnesses itself wither,
but never ceases.

i wondered if they too had grown tired,
restless asleep,
awake in slumber,
if they too had knew of hatred and love.

there was a thin line between the two—
indifferent.

indifferent,
always numb,
watching as the facade fades,
but never leaves.

i saw myself in the stars,
as they grew tired of existing,
staring at death from afar,
yet exhausted of chasing it.

i reached for them—
hopeful.

if only could i hunt for one,
whether it was to exist with the stars,
perish with them,
rather than staying in the stillness.

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