They say that after the Big Bang
It was a myriad of collisions that began to form our universe.
Masses of gasses hurling into each other,
not to explode and dissipate
but to violently combine and form
the entirety of existence.

On one of the floating specks
Formed from those chemical crashes
I exist
Constantly searching
for something
anything
with which to collide.

Dark, warm bed
After bed
After bed,
Ingenuine, primal ******
after ******
after ******,
and I return to my cluttered mind
More unsatisfied and lost than before each orchestrated clash.

My biggest fear has always been car crashes.
Stories of dead families strewn across a ****** highway have haunted my nightmares since I could strap in my own carseat.
But they also say fear is love
and now at twenty,
I embody
Shards of broken glass
more than a walking soul shell
that mistaken minds call a body.

And as I lay touched and swollen,
with the taste of too many someones' in my mouth,
I think I might crash a car into a star and see if maybe then
instead of aching as a million pieces I become violently whole.