Closter phobic isolation

The vast night sky steals my breath.
Looking beyond what my eyes can see, visiting my mind’s complexity.
Reaching for nothing but being pulled down by gravity.
Alone I lay, in the wet grass, pondering every star’s existence and contemplating my own.
Can you tell me how man was made? Can you show me how we became?
Closing my eyes, I plan to open them once again to focus on a single light in the sky.
A single star, like me, has its own life, its own brightness but is accompanied by billions of its kind. It is lost in its own originality, left to look like all the others, like a Closter phobic isolation.
I turn my head to the left and see nothing but my own bitterness. Will some one please tell me how I got here and where I can find my way back? You rub in my face all that I fucking lack.
I look the other way and see nothing but hills and trees, towering down upon the dark sleeping city.

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