Karen Bassey's "Distance" is a very short poem about feeling invisible to someone you care about. The speaker starts with a wish: if the stars could cover the whole sky, she would be the biggest part of the person she's addressing. The stars here seem to stand for everything that crowds a person's attention, or perhaps for the vastness between them. Then comes the flat line, "But they don't." The wish collapses in three words.
The last line draws the sad conclusion: "That's why I'm non-existent to you." The logic is a little odd, and that oddness is part of the feeling. The speaker blames something huge and out of her control, as though her place in someone's life depends on the sky itself. The poem reads as hurt and resigned rather than angry. There's no plea, just a quiet admission. The short lines and the blunt ending leave a cold, lonely mood, like staring up at a sky that offers no comfort.