A Shooting Star

voice, weak

mind, dying

eyes, fixated

on the fire, engulfing

everything beautiful

in my life

unable to blink

at the horror

of the flames

until my eyes

dried out

crying out in pain

as it ate

into my flesh

until I could feel

no more

grieving my loss

until I could think

no more thoughts

shutting down,

I became an insect

captured in a child’s jar

moved far away

from the garden

unsure what to do

unable to move

think

or be

until the jar

was shaken up

and I became

no more

than a reflex

reacting to thoughts

instead of having them

I am

stuck on the ground

looking up

at thoughts

like clouds

morphing from shape

to shape

floating

in and out

of my sight

drifting so high above

they must not even

have noticed me

far, far below them

broken into pieces

spread far and wide

trying to put myself

back together imperfectly

but unable to find

every part of me

changing forever

losing pieces

of my soul

becoming a husk

of the man

I once was

becoming a

different person

for better

or for worse

for when a shooting star falls

it can never go back up

and shine

as it once did

and instead takes on

a new life

somewhere different

forever changed

forevermore