(Hoseok POV)
Thermometers and needles. X-rays and clipboards. Coughs and tissues.
You can see it.
IV lines and MRIs. Surgeries and monitors. Stretchers and wheels.
You can see it.
Greys and fakes. Sorrows and voids. Tears and pills.
Why can't you see it?
___
Cruel - perhaps that is the only way to describe it.
It is cruel of the stars in their eyes that you cannot wish upon.
It is cruel of the breaths in their mouths you cannot share with.
It is the cruel of the tears on their cheeks you cannot dry.
Cruel - perhaps that is the only way to love it.
You are urged to live before the Sun sets, before the Sun says goodbye to its Earth for hours and hours, just so its Earth can learn to live without its Sun; just so it can learn to love without it being there.
How was I to know that when you took away my months, you made me learn to love my seconds. How was I to know that when the tumour in my brain grew bigger, so did the warmth in my heart. How was I to know that it was not the telescope that finds stars, it was your eyes.
How was I to know that when you became my star, I became your Sun.
How was I to know that when you became my wish, I became your gravity.
How was I to know that it was not gravity that made me fall; it was you.
But all that falls breaks.
For I am falling for you, but still falling.
How will you know that I am no longer a star, but instead, a dead star; shining with the light that is trapped in time, shining with the light that will reach you years and years after I am gone. How will you continue to stare at me each night, never knowing that it is not me but the dead part of me?
Maybe I am not a star. Maybe I am a meteor.
Falling for you, burning through the atmosphere for you - but away from you.
Maybe I am not meant to stay up in the sky forever for as long as light from outer space can reach us, for as long as one twinkle can race through the entire galaxy and shine into your eyes.
Maybe it is not the sky or the stars that I should blame; it is the very gravity that made me fall for you. The same gravity that does not let me pause as I fall and fall, burn and burn, away and away - from you.
Maybe I will never stop falling and burning and fading.
Maybe the only way we can see each other again is when I am burning and dying in the night sky.
Maybe that only way will only be for one time, and all that would be left of me is the debris and space matter I burned through the atmosphere with.
For shooting stars are just lonely people that want to come back.
So I ask of you;
please see me when I am falling. Please see me when I am fading. Please see me when I am burning - for it can only happen once.
I just hope you are there to see it.
And if you are,
then I beg of you;
when I come back falling and burning and fading,
wish upon me and catch me.
___
