A Conversation with a Night Sky

“How much of my secrets do you know?” 

I look up at the sky. There aren’t many visible stars today. The moon is as full as a cold glass of milk, intentionally left forgotten. 

“All and nothing.” It responds through the wind blowing past my face, carrying answers. Or more questions.

“What does that even mean?” 

“I have known you since you were a child. Running around. Falling.  I have seen you when you pretended to be sick only to stay home. I have seen how drunk you get yourself when you want to convince yourself into doing that thing you don’t want to do. I have seen you shedding tears. I have seen you walking away from your God to only get on your knees later on, begging you didn’t know better. I have seen that thing you do when you miss your mother, staring right into my eyes, as if you know exactly where she is. I have seen the things you do when you can’t sleep. I know all about the notes you’ve burned. I have seen you picking a fight with yourself over a mistake from the past. I have seen you falling in love. I have heard your recent prayers, Oh! How far your heart has come!  I have seen everything you have done. Yes, everything. Yes! Even that one thing you want to carry to your grave. so , yes, I know everything. Yet, in all of that, I don’t know about that place you take your mind to when you don’t want to be present in this one. So, what do I really know? 

Let me ask you?

Where do you go when you’re not here?

Does the sky talk to you?”