there's something about touching greatness
just brushing it, burning your hand on the lip of the pot
of greatness, and knowing that that's all you get.
you get at most a friend, at worst, someone
that you used to know, used to hug, used to
laugh with and now they're so far away, high up in
the sky while you've been left down below.
no the worst part is, is that you wouldn't change it
because who are you to chain a star to the ground?
they are who they are, and you're content to watch from
the dirt as the sun glitters in the vastness, your orbits
sadly not locked, so you drift away, just glad you could even
witness them when they were what they were before their
ignition, when you could still look at them without it hurting
and it was worth it then, and it's worth it now to stare,
despite the tears in your eyes from the brightness
because at least you get to witness them ever from
afar
