Shoot For the Moon

Shoot for the moon and you’ll land among the stars, 
Well I did and I’m holding on as tight as I can
But the stars are sharp and my hands are bleeding
But I’m so scared of letting go because what if I fall and what if I’ll never land in the brightness again
And what if I miss the sharpness
And what if the air whistles through the holes in my hands and what if it hurts 
But I can’t struggle here forever because the stars want to shoot forward and I am weighing them down
And the moon looks so stable but I passed it long ago
And there’s nothing for miles but stars

This is a more free-form poem that I wrote late at night----a combination of learning to "let go" of friends who can't be there for me right now and the terror of how changing majors suddenly ripped my future wide open, and now I'm not looking at a clear path but an entire universe of possibilities. We all know the phrase "shoot for the moon! even if you miss, you'll land among the stars," but I feel like nobody wants to unpack what it's like once you land there.