Saturday, August 10, 2024

birth of a black hole

we are two neutron stars

orbiting each other in a fatal dance

two damaged souls attracted by gravity

and when we merge

we'll either simmer

or explode


at times we graze each others paths

our touch a blinding, burning light

with molten claws that rip our flesh to shreds


and with the scraps

we sew

bodies and souls anew

a patchwork quilt of each other

into something neither you or me

but equally us


a new planetary body

that churns and accelerates silently

in the nothingness of the universe

go fish

 like a fish swallowing a hook

i'm pulled in your direction

my head tilts back

and i have no choice but to look toward the sun


though it's refracted and scattered,

the light is still dazzling


dizzy from my offset equilibrium

i break the surface of the water

and realized it's not the sun

but your face shining down at me

prison break

 I used to have so many dreams

emotions crawling inside my skull

buzzing and busy as a beehive

compassion a cook pot left to boil over on the stove

an innocent mind,

uninhibited from allowing ideas to perform a prison break


but over time, humanity turned against me

decided capitalism was more important than the pollinators

they sprayed their pesticides with wreck-less abandon

and so the hive grew quiet


they realized incarceration could turn a profit

packed the prisons full and tightened security

and pledged the death penalty for all dissenters

and so the prisons became impenetrable


they weaponized food,

knowing hunger weakens the mind

cut the gas supply to all the stoves

and so the burners went cold


now here i am,

stuck with a quiet mind

and the thoughts that do remain

can no longer break free

caged

 i feel like an animal in captivity

governed by handlers to follow a strict schedule

and destined to pace endlessly

back and forth

across my small enclosure


stuck in a time loop

living the same day over and over

except the walls close in by millimeters each day

and i forgot the code to locked door eons ago


contained

like a video game character who hasn't unlocked the full map


and like a fish that jumps to certain death

just to escape its poisoned environment

i fantasize about sticking a fork in an electrical outlet

in hopes of a hard reset


i want to consume everything

that makes me feel anything at all

all the good and bad alike

like a black hole in the center of our universe


i want to consume you most of all

but your gravity is immense

and your light shines so bright

that it would be a pity to destroy

and make you a consequence of my insanity


but maybe

i could have you for a while

and we could dance through the dark


and the silence

and the nothingness

together

and after years and years and years


i could set you free as something

even better than both of us ever were

my moon

It's the dawn of the Age of Enlightenment

It arrives

lovingly holding hands the a cataclysmic earthquake

who opens a chasm that cast the lovers apart


not long after

a comparatively infinitesimal rock

races through the cosmos

a lonesome warrior who collides with my planetary body


the impact breaks parts of me off

shooting bits into the void

and vacuum

and darkness


while they remain part of the whole

they transform into their own unique beings

shaped and formed by time


most of the broken parts float away

flung too far past the pull of gravity


but one remains

sentences to circle me endlessly

alien bitch

you start to wonder why you're always manic-pixied

and realize the grim truth:

you have no substance

they can project whatever they want onto you

nothing more than a blank expanse,

a movie screen


and with barely a thought in your head

conversations are typically

one-sided

you, the patient receiver

them, the main character


you listen well,

with two dark eyes that bore into their soul

when really it's your only way of staying anchored to reality

fighting for your life to play a part

in a game which you're still unsure of the rules


dissociation and distraction

are the angel & devil on your shoulders

each whispering sweet-nothings in your ears

but ripping you in two


yet still,

you somehow manage

to enchant


and your curse is to sprinkle pixie dust

on all those you encounter

while you float in an endless void of

bland confusion

half-thoughts and dead dreams


subsisting on the complex lives of those around you

fore-fed their truths and lies

like an alien creature born with a bottomless stomach


and after all this time

the Weight Of Others

finally starts to accumulate