you were my star, parting the darkness of the clouds, clearing the path home, allowing me to make it to morning. you made my life brighter, even if you never meant to. even when you had never known me, your light let me move past all i had lost. but if there was one thing i have learned from you, it's that starlight takes centuries to reach our eyes. that is why i couldn't see that you had already died. you were only a husk of a star, all the hope stolen from you. yet the light still had a lasting effect on me, maybe even on everyone who knew you. by the time the flare of your death reached my eyes, i realized i was too late. i had always been too late. i never had a chance anyway. i was too late to try to be a real friend. i was too late to help you move forward. i was too late to feel valued by you. i was too late to tell you. they would do anything to see you gone. you had no choice. nobody had a choice. now my star is gone.
who knew writing poetry was easier when it's from a character's perspective
