Shatter

A star whispered of energy eternal:
a soul born in halves,
split clean by the hands of creation,
sent spiraling across the universe,
destined to search for its other.

I feel it now—
a pull as old as starlight,
a thread tightening,
stretching across oceans
like the glint of a blade.

What curse binds us?
To meet at the edge of infinity,
where stars hang like broken mirrors,
each fragment gleaming with what might have been,
but no bridge spans the void.

If I could seize the sky,
gather its shattered pieces in my hands,
I would build a path to you—
even if it left me bleeding,
cut by the sharpness of hope.

Did the universe not know
how cruel it would be
to split a soul in two,
and leave me behind,
holding only shards of you?