For my sun.

I don't think it's working anymore. 

I don't have the time, the place or any of those for you. I cannot offer myself to you, because I will never be enough and I don't think I will ever be for you. You're a star that is meant to be seen by afar, not to be touched or even to be kept. And I?  Who am I? I'm a satellite. I wander around the universe looking for that perfect planet to spy on but I keep on gravitating towards you, a burning mass of light. You are no good for me, and I for you. If I so much attempt to touch your rays, I shall cease to exist.

Or maybe, I just don't have the courage to be burned by you.