Things I carry with Me

One night I was looking straight at the stars, while I was lying down in the balcony. They are quiet; it is weird because they always tend to talk to me. The moon looks at me, but she does not say anything. What is happening? Am I not interesting to them anymore? I dislike this situation; I want to talk to them, I want them to be my secret-holders. I hear noises close to where I was. There are people playing, but I don't seem to know them. Then, I started asking to myself if I really know me, who I am, and then I realized I am a persistent, a spontaneous and a jealous girl.
There are so m…