I can run from the streets, but not the stars.
The stars scream memories, painted across the sky.
They are bold and bright, never broken.
I look up and see your face, I see the truth.
I want to run, hide, and forever forget.
But you were sent to me, my own miracle.

I never used to believe in miracles,
Until the night we met, and we looked up at the stars.
You made it easy to tell you the truth,
To write my story across the sky.
You promised the past would be easy to forget,
Promised I could say goodbye to being broken.

We shared our stories, and what left us broken.
You turned my life around, an honest miracle.
You gave me friendship, something I could never forget.
So we sat, just two friends, staring at the stars.
You promised me, one day, we’d travel the skies.
And we meant every word, told each other the truth.

But as the tale goes, there are two sides to the truth.
And you had to be better, nothing close to broken.
So I watched as the clouds exploded across the sky,
And cut like a knife, at the soul of my blessed miracle.
You didn’t remember the night with the stars,
You pushed me away, forced yourself to forget.

I had to do the same to protect my heart, I had to forget.
The more I tried, the more it became the truth.
And there was no longer hope lingering in the stars,
Just the pain, the emptiness, and the feeling of being broken.
I had lost my forgiveness, my love for the magic in a miracle.
And I stood there in the street, begging to be up in the sky.


But it wasn’t my time; I couldn’t live in the sky.
So I swallowed the pain, forgave you, and let it be forgotten.
And I remembered back to why you were once my miracle.
I remembered the day you helped me admit the truth,
And you took me away from the pain. I was no longer broken.
I found my hope again, remembered how you loved the stars.

Remembered the skies, and how good it felt to tell the truth.
Learned to forgive and forget, to say goodbye to being broken.
My own little miracle, I will always remember you and the stars.