Did you know that if you rub the ends of your hair together it sounds like static.
That if you fold the folds of your mind so far that your eyelashes brush the floor then you've covered yourself in mascara and dust,
And if you pull the ends of my heart to the darkest parts of the universe then you will never compare to
The collapse of my stargazing selflessness.

Sometimes I go outside and breathe the breeze so far into myself that it becomes
Ice and yet, when I breathe out I feel the
Steam of my failed attempts to boil.
I've tried to commemorate my actions by lining pieces of grass one after another along rivulets in asphalt but then I ask myself do
Ends ever
End?

The dirt on my fingerprints has morphed into calluses from the amount of times that I have tried to erase my self-worth however,
I am still worth the amount of times I have captured lightning inside of rose petals on a 35 millimeter film screen but that amount is,
Never.

I will never feel the hair on my face that I have allowed to curl out of self-pity and tell myself that
Everything happened all right because I,
I am laying on the vast expanse that is my morality
Waiting for the stars to sink into my stark ribs and
Vanish into what
I never was.