It's the kind of hurt that only the stars can relate to.

You were my heart, my brain, and every emotion I could conjur into existence.

Every word that birthed a new thought and every thought that birthed a

craving for the foreverness you provided.

You were a pattern within yourself,

bathing in your own color and processes of life.

I made you a home within my heart and invited you to stay.

You told me stories of ourselves in later years,

worn and aged in time,

each significant event a wrinkle in our wisened faces.

Looking back, 365 days of relative thought lapsed into a single moment,

it's true.

Only the stars,

singularly paused in a universe of motion,

could have loved you with the intent of the words you'll never hear.