for those who are concerned; I dispersed within the vastness of outer space.

My body, once caged all the stars, are finally in its resting place.

Maybe here, I am finally seen by those who romanticize the deathly night.

I am at a tranquil state, where all the planets are aligned just right.

No deaths, no violence, no wars, no fights.

No existential pain or crisis to plague a human's state of mind.

I am bound within the molecules of space and time, dancing on asteroids, I am entwined.

Finally, my body is free from the darkest of pains that had wallowed in my rib cage.

All the bottled emotions that had forever kept me enraged.

I have exploded into a beautiful mess, now the size of silica.

I am in motion, twinkling for those bellow in such a sorrowful world, as they paint me in Starry Night replicas.

They'll be envious to hear that I am conversing with Van Gogh himself.

We are in the cloudless night, a painting in a museum, and history within books on a bookshelf.

We're sprinkled in the dark like a beautiful combustion.

All the answers written in the stars for what we once questioned.

He tells me "be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high."

And that was enough for me to just get by.

I am a galaxy, freed in the vastness of the universe.

Into this new life of neighboring planets and meteors, my body will immerse.

I am the stars you see on your lonely nights.

And this time, please take your time to analyze my light.

I know I'm a mess, but I can make it beautiful.

For what it's worth, I once took the form of a dying artist, whom was so mutable.