I could change the stars with a single hand cupped with desire. Pointing them in the direction I wish, a God walking among men. Or are we perhaps fools amongst fools as we walk with our heads down and ignore the light? Would anyone even notice if I were to alter your perception or would it be lost through the glaze of routine.
I see the world through mirrors because staring directly at pain is far too hard. How much easier is it to accept an image at a glance than one before your eyes? I weigh this thought even as my mind decides for me. I shatter the glass ceiling in hope of seeing the sky once more. I lay down and dream that I could change the stars.