His promises

It's midnight and I can't sleep.
I walk outside and lay on the cement. It's still warm from the 85 degree day.
There was a BBQ today and someone's smoking in my ally.
I inhale deeply through my nose and the chilly air clears my thoughts.
I hold my breath and allow the brisk invasion to pushback against my chest.
My lips separate and the air returns back where it came from.

I slip my hood on and look up to the sky.
It's my favorite.
The deep blue background captures my attention. The brighter stars outline the constellations we all know. I wish I knew more. Regardless I look anyways. The stars: they're beautiful.

They are beautiful.
They're alone, yet together they form something astonishing. Each one a different dimness, a different shape, some falling, some twinkling brighter- they're all beautiful.

Some of you are thinking "yes but that's all because some stars are farther away so for our eyes they just seem less bright and falling stars aren't things you make a wish on, that's just what happens when space debris hits the atmosphere"- that's valid but I don't care.

The stars to me hold promise and stability. I can lay in my back yard in California and see the same stars I saw in a baseball field one night in Pennsylvania. I can find the same points of reference the week of finals or the middle of summer.

It's midnight and I can't sleep.
I'm outside overwhelmed yet comforted by the heat coming through my clothes.
I hear the drug addict go inside and start an argument.
The outside air meets my breath and I shiver.

Though much is changing around me and there isn't anything I can do about it I look up.
I embrace the whirlwind of change and focus on the things that never fluctuate.
They are beautiful