i know
that star dust is not made of
broken dreams,
lost hopes,
and failed science projects that were brutally cremated.
but what if,
what
if
that one star,
the one star i wished on as a kid,
is made of my
fractured bones,
my old piano books,
my laughter,
me.
what if?
♎
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snapshots
Poetrysnapshots of my thoughts in poetry and little writings. © 2013 by anxieti. All rights reserved.