Thinking by Sarah Healy

Thinking.

Can't stop thinking.

Think of you.

This.

That.

That Life.

That day.

That dream was mine.

A utopian dream.

Your aura; struck me like lightning to a tree.

Pointy, like a star, you shone.

So bright, yet not shining as a star would but as apparent as white chalk on a blackboard.

You would not show off like a star.

Yet you did burn so hot, so fiercely, so explosively -you were a star in my eyes.

But like all stars, you died.That gas was gone.

No pull between us.

The atmosphere was dry and I began to choke.

I was taken from my star - like a child being taken from its poor,drunken mother - I did not know what was happening.

Dazed.

Confused.

Without true reality, I there sat.

Wondering.

The end of my world had only just begun, with yours beginning.