Days

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Days, they come and go with unexplainable ease.

Makes me wonder if the sun ever hesitates to wake up and shine her light on the world

If the moon relishes while the eclipse lasts, and spends her nights waiting for that distant time when she won't have to be seen.

Constantly posing in the sky, as the world takes in her beauty.

Or maybe she thrives as people stare; maybe she has no reason to be scared of something so small.

But looking at the sky only makes me feel smaller,

The passing days have me feeling weaker,

And with every glance in my direction I fear the worst.

I someday hope to be a star, to rule the sky and no longer be afraid of all these horrible, terrifying, impossibly small human beings.

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