ever since
that brightest of lights
birthed the universe
and all that it holds
our particles have
been striving through
all that is known
of space and time
through countless changes
of form and matter
through our unknown infinities
amidst the infinites known
through beliefs and disbeliefs
uncertainties and doubts
falling continuously
in the path of our orbits
endlessly we will travail
entrained to reunite
with our eternal partner
separated only temporally
impeded by the superlunary
seemingly fated from beyond
the gravity of this mystic tie
binds all sempiternally
and we will be found
one in the other

should i be overcome with possibility or with a weak frame of mind? what do you have in mind, wise one? are your cheek bones usually this sunken in? does the setting horizon usually mirror your image? does the pain you feel define you? how shall it not? i slept for years in a bed that wasn’t mine, scared of my shadow, scared of the phantoms in the closet. i performed for myself. is that why i never felt belonging or a longing to my own self, as my own entity? i forgot what life meant in my rampant race for closure. i found out your mind can lie. it can scheme. it can puncture a lung. it can violate you and you won’t even pay mind to it. it will feel like kindness and maybe it is because you are weak. the flood can creep in when you are sleeping. it can suffocate you when you are unaware. my compassion gets mistaken, i know. the storm can brew right upon your doorstep, leaving you no time to stop it. does the dismantling of others make you a deity? i’d like to know if the pillow you sleep on at night is too firm or too perfect. cause when i sleep, i hear a distant rumbling, and no, it doesn’t send me to sleep. it drives me to the brink of insanity. it doesn’t hurt to be alone, it hurts to be seen yet ignored, it hurts to be invisible. yet sometimes, i want to hide from the impending doom. there is a spirit inside of my head, but i think it is myself because i don’t believe in such things. sometimes i speak to the ghosts of the people that have left me. through my writing, i see rhymes where they weren’t before and i see meaning where i only saw words. i have forgotten the meaning of happiness. i have forgotten the feeling of belonging. i have forgotten the meaning of bliss. there are some days i forget the void in my stomach exists, but it still constantly persists. i feel like i’ve watched my life unfold like a film reel. it’s going by so fast, but i’m like a zombie with this internal pace. i can’t find meaning in things. yet, as i watched the stars in the deep night sky, i felt so tiny compared to them. they have been around forever. every person that has suffered a disaster looked up to the stars to find a helping hand. and they found it. for me, i’m afraid to expose myself to the world. even to the stars in my backyard. they are floating ***** of light and what am i? something of such lower significance. what am i and why does life feel like a switchblade in my neck? my faint revolution will be peace and anger and blurted words i kept inside so long. i don’t belong, and i’m just so sorry God. i will try. i have tied my wings back. shall i fly or will i break and come crashing back into this negligible dead land? will i be the daughter that even strangers are proud of or will i be the lump in your throat, the unwashed laundry, the burnt toast? i can’t feel who i am, the numbness has set over me. i failed you, but i will still try. make no mistake. yet if the mountains descend over my body, i will be taken and there will be not much left of me. when the birds have pecked at my skin and my eyes have lost their irises, how will i see myself? as the flesh decomposes, what will remain?

its all a matter
of an emptiness that falls
up to a nothing

The day everything became nothing
And nothing became everything
Because nothing matters
Yet matter is everything
And everything always matters
Because of matter, a matter matters
And even when nothing matters
It's still a matter of matter
The fact that it matters creates matter
It is a matter of matter within itself

the universe
it is
a superb creation
perfect
elegance
majestic

while
in its random reality
one thing is certain:
- it is the worst construction
constructed
ever, who believes
doesn't know-
many constants
of arbitrary coupling
mass ratios
families
and families, and families of useless particles
& dark matter, - chewing gum on a stick

gross fact

the universe exists

pregnant abyss
established chain
a fire that breathes equations
while the truth is looking for its head and tail

certainly

by wandering the mind
hallucinating
it cannot be canceled

- the crime of thoughts
it is not its death

If you remove darkness inside me how much matter would remain?
Would it be a clean break or would that shadow leave a stain?
The antiques passed through generations only weigh me down
Heirloom weakness and shame parents wore as crowns
Would bring all the way till I crossed the finish line
Their weight is making progress steadily decline
Yet when I try releasing find their grip is way too strong
Have no other choice but drag these heavy burdens along
I fear limbs decay the more time that passes by
Friction wearing holes in flesh
I can't sever ties
A broken soiled reputation all I've seemed to gain
Blessings one by one like drops of water swirled the drain
Under layers of appearance is a piece of myself I rightly hate
Seems to be too large to safely amputate
These cheap thrills have gotten more expensive than platinum and gold
Their toll taken by draining my peace and prematurely making me old
As I held dreams in hand I stumbled and I fell
Shattered as they hit the floor
Hopes more fragile than eggshells
Then clumsy feet only made the mess worse
Every step makes a crunching noise
Wish I could somehow reverse
I never knew growing up would cause me to feel so low
Only when flying too high that I see how far the pavement waits below
The little girl in me died now there's a stranger in her place
Look in mirror and am terrified because the stranger wears my face