new text document in poetry

go stare up at the stars
don’t you feel like they’re
receding?

scary how few there are
they’re not infinite just
repeating

there’s maybe just fifty-three
then they cut and paste you see
they simulate infinity
to give you all
that hopeless tiny feeling

there’s not much outer space
it’s mostly pictures on the
ceiling

and maybe it’s not true
and maybe it’s just me
and there is infinity
and maybe it’s just you
that makes me feel the way
I do

but the night sky makes me lonely
and your absence leaves me reeling

so those speckles are not stars
they’re pinpricks
in a bedsheet
to me