On the night you left

I dream of about a million things
but while I dream
the once clear sky fills with clouds
to leave only one star to look down at me.

Soon we will both be in the sky.
Soon, the separation I felt from this world
will be cemented in the knowledge that it is not
my troubles that are fleeting,
but it was me.

I cannot plant roots. I have tried and I cannot.
Maybe I am not a tree at all.

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