we look up to the stars and forget the galaxy within,

if it glitters, it’s perfect,

yet we forget that we are dust,

centuries old, woven from generations of warriors we know not of,

we celebrate the fickle and trod upon the strong,

like bees we gather around a hashtag, now like puppets we jump on trends,

we dance, laugh, do what everyone is doing in exchange for numbers…

the very same numbers we know not of, like the stories that make us,

the fears and hopes and dreams and will within us.

She said, “What’s sad is that for a second of joy, to feel a fleeting moment of bliss, I too forget the galaxy within for the star outside.”