Why is the Sun following me?
His persistence is but puny
And his popularity but perpetual
Crimson craters boil in my peripheral
Yet Warmth neglects my façade
He shadows me
As if I were light
And encumbers me
As if I were free
He follows me as if I were he,
In a millennium’s search for familiarity
He orbits me as if I were a like star of self-destruction,
Both thriving from what we are dying,
High functioning failures, we belong to the family of
Contact does not comfort this lone star
I need space, my rays admit
He fades into the night,
Colorless
Crestfallen
Hasn’t anyone ever told him not to stare at the sun?