mathowlav

The stars are beautiful. They sparkle and dance throughout the night, painting the night sky with such brilliance that your fingers twitch, wanting to pick up a paintbrush and capture it. You wish you could snag one of out of the sky. It's already filled with so many of them, the disappearance of one wouldn't make a difference, would it? They remind you of the stars inside, dancing, smiling, shining. But those stars inside - nobles and the like - have a sort of darkness behind their shine, a sort of cunning behind their masks. You don't fit in with them, and wish you never will. Your skin itches under the mask that covers the top of your fa