Writing

Seven or eight stars?

A hidden one named Alcor

No one notices 

I think you make me really happy

I think it’s sort of all-consuming

I think I want to be with you every second

Of every day

I think maybe what keeps me up at night

Is replaying you

Replaying us

You’re different

With all of us

Versus just me.

You’re different

With a whole crazy friend group

Than you are when it’s us chilling in your basement watching Stranger Things 

People want things from me

This incredible group of people

They want me to mediate

To laugh

To help them with x, y, and z

They want me to come with them

Pulling me in different directions constantly

Ad astra

Latin for to the stars

something that we've never done yet

but we've gone near.

We've never gone to the stars

we've reached the not-quite-emptiness that surrounds them.

I don't know what this is

whether it's summer really sinking in

or if it's something else

something more

something worse.

I don't want to turn into this

a puddle of negative feelings and boredom.