for the hell of it

title: gazing
pairing/rating: dean/sam, G
note: can be read as non-SPN, or can be read as a reference to 5.22 Swan Song


There shouldn't be stars at night
anymore.
We used them all up,
left the sky empty black,
forgot to refill it before you left
(with all those stars in your pocket--
each one a souveneir of the hours we spent watching,
side-by-side-together,
each one a gift we'd reached out and picked from space
when sparkling just right:
Here, have this; it made my heart think of yours.)
But I guess I don't care if people say
those stars are still there
because I don't look up when it's night
anymore anyway.
I'm too busy pretending you're still here with me
to bother believing in starlight that's
theme park fake
and made out of glass.