The Child Who Fed the Stars

They say the stars were once cold—

silent watchers in a black sea of nothing.

But a child, too curious for her own good,

climbed the edge of the sky

with a match in her hand

and wonder in her pocket.

She fed each star a story.

Not facts—stories.

Because even the universe wants to feel something.

She told of sunflowers that reached so high,

they whispered secrets to the moon.

She spoke of birds that traded feathers

for wisdom they’d never fly with.

She sang lullabies to the black holes,

promising them they weren’t monsters—

just tired things that needed to be held.

And slowly, the cosmos blushed.

The stars warmed.

Comets began to dance like children

set free from homework.

The constellations rearranged themselves,

not for navigation,

but to form her name—

because even infinity

remembers kindness.