LXXXVI. there are billions of stars that roam this universe,
yet not a single one belongs to me.
there is no poem that can bring finality to what i feel, but there is only one that can bring an end to this five-month journey of turmoil, misery, enlightenment, and something desolate. my metaphor for the stars has yet to be realized. please just wait until tomorrow.
and thank you, caleb.