As a teenager I would wish upon a star. I’d watch it flutter among the others like a firefly and quickly fizzle out like a firecracker fuse. I remember wishing for the same thing every time. It was the only thing I could think of, the only wish I had.
To leave this earth.
It’s what motivated me. It’s what kept me hopeful throughout the day. I knew I was destined to die, I just wanted it sooner.
When I died, I found myself wishing every moment for a chance to see another shooting star.
But skies here withhold all fireflies.
Goddamn skies. Tight-ass skies.