Starless night.
There aren't many starry nights anymore.
The city destroyed the stars
with headlights from cars.
I would lay beneath them if I could.
Constellation 
With the stars.
I would lay beneath them and wish upon
them all that I could feel their
heatless light in every cell of me.
Mitochondria would make energy from
starlight and I would shine back
what they gave me.
That's all I ever really wanted.
To be a star.
Not a moon, not a sun...
A star.
Not famous, not a God. A star.
To, in night, ignite, burn bright
A healer's light.