the belief of stars

i believe in the beauty of stars:

(of the one that leads you home;
the ones that create animals and people in the sky,
and the one we have to pass to find neverland,
where we never have to grow up.)

because stars were the only light of hope
i knew when walls were white and
my vision was the darkest shade of red:
the liquid of blood that coagulates
and makes the flow from fresh scars stop.

small points of light in the vast dark sky,
creating a myriad of wonders,
letting hope reach the darkest places
of a lonely soul.

when city lights blurred together with the stars,
i felt my breath stop
because i didn't know what was real,
not when i felt a void,
pushing itself into me and making me choke.

they are the only things that have existed before time
or when the world knew pain and greed,
hate and dissension like the back of its hand,
slipping through greasy fingers of want.