I wish I were a star.

Why am I so easy to cast aside?

 Sometimes I wish I could escape to the stars and twinkle down on all the people who feel comfort in the great beyond. Floating forever into infinity with the ability to be millions of miles away, yet still be seen and still be ever present. You can't shun a star, you can't look at all of the stars in the sky and dismiss just one. Stars are part of something, a small piece of a magnificent whole, blanketing the cold, lonely, and abandoned. Embracing the weak and fragile and giving them hope. Helping people but never feeling the wrath of betrayal, never getting my hopes up that someone will keep the promises of their past.

 I take comfort in the stars because even when they have fizzled out, they are still seen and wished on. Even if it is false they still offer the comfort people seek. If only I could be a star,  I could burn bright until I ran out of the things I need and then disappear in a grand display. All at once I am a fantastic flash, and then I am gone and forgotten, and there is an empty space where I used to be.