i write poetry to the beat of my breaking heart,
and it's getting repetitive.
my mind is made up of small galaxies,
and my tears are made of space.
neutron stars trickle down,
and stay,
and pull down on my face.
my cheeks puff from cosmological expansion,
due to the constant acceleration
in my local geometry.
i open my mouth,
and sing songs from all corners
of our observable universe.
yet i look inside,
and i see nothing,
only the emptiness
that comes with dark energy.