Nothing but dots.

You told me stars were nothing but dots. And I wondered why those words felt like daggers piercing through the bones, wounding my heart. To me, stars are everything. When I sail in the oceans, spilled dust they may seem but they point to home when I'm lost. In the cold, in the void, the tiny lighthouses above, give me warmth and light. My shadows may disappear, but the stars, they are glued to my soul watching over me, even beyond the storms. I've always wondered what they were, to touch and act as if they're within reach. I've longed and thirsted for what awaits among the permanents. They are everything. Until you said, They are nothing. But dots. Perhaps, the heavens felt my pain. The skies turned grey and it thundered with glory. Glorious they were, as bright as I can remember. Now dull, and even behind the clouds or in the depths of space, all are gone. Nowhere to be seen. Maybe it was devastating because I told the stars about you. I saw the whole sky in you. You were my everything. And in the nothingness, there left only my eyes, searching, twinkling in the void, as if dots like how you used to see me Nothing but dots.