I told the stars about you || Wanderer Poem

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ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ

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Fresh steam curls its way to the sky

as you burn through cup after cup

of freshly brewed tea. I think surely,

it must be bitter as it burns.

But you seem to like it that way.

So I simply make more.

Dying smoke curls its way to the sky

as the campfire curls up to rest

until morning. I look over at your mat

across the embers and see you lying.

I know you do not rest, nor do you sleep

as humans do. Still,

I close my eyes and pretend with you.

Fumes curl their way to the sky

as illness and misfortune spill over

the land. You have gone, and I am glad

that you need not witness this further.

Perhaps now my heart’s pounding will

steady, as I prepare to protect those

who remain. I step toward the furnace now

like a doctor to a dying patient.

The air is clear as the night sky shines,

and the land is quiet. Save for the forced

breaths you take in upholding a lie

you don’t need to keep.

I hear your words claiming betrayal.

I have left you all alone. And my heart

cannot leave with you. Cannot be moved.

Instead I can only offer

a wisp of energy curling its way to the sky

to tell the stars about you.

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☄. *. ⋆

   ⋆·˚ ༘ * :telescope: