Sometimes, when out late at night, I stare straight up into the sky – The bass heavy music wired directly into my ears momentarily receding, no longer providing its intended distraction from thinking, from being, from feeling. I look up beyond the ambient light. Beyond what man has built, to what has always been, but won’t always be. Sometimes it feels like I’m holding on to something already gone, but I know I’m wrong.

Just like the stars above,
this something was never in my grasp.
Just like the stars, shining in the now,
but really only from the past.

I don’t know how to do this. Time is relative and hours pass in my gaze. The celestial sky swirls as the world twirls and I’m lost in the blur. I’m ripped in two and the chasm between who I say I am and who walks around in my shoes is ever widening and I find myself, both selves, admiring the depths. So I turn my sight heavenward. Straight up into the sky, heart beat in sync with whatever screams in my ears tonight.

 – Jessie Gutierrez