Little Dipper

Mikaila Ayala, “By the Moonlight”

by Kate Gervey

...and after all that,

i stare at the ceiling

and wish there were stars there,

wish there was something to see here,

and after everything

i know i could put the sky there,

if i tried,

but i am not made of stars

and my hands would not know where to put them anyway,

i do not remember the constellations,

(i never have;

don’t tell anyone

but sometimes i think the stars have forgotten me altogether,

don’t tell anyone

but sometimes i stare into the sky and pray for the world to reverse and 

for me to fall through the atmosphere and be free,

don’t tell anyone 

but the world is a heavy mantle and

sometimes i wonder if something is wrong with me to be weighed down like i have been),

but after all that,

i stare at the ceiling and at least i can touch it,

at least i can reach it,

and if i sketch the constellations there,

perhaps i can hold up the sky tomorrow,

when i am stronger,

perhaps after everything

there will still be others to bear it with me,

and maybe that’s what i should be wishing for instead;

and in the end

i will learn that they shine with me, despite it all