She has a way of tormenting you
In every direction you try take
She gives you a curfew
Hoping, probing, that you, too, slip through the cracks.

I wanted to be a astronaut
To explore the universe
To find my destiny
Through the black hole
And out
Spaghettified or not
When my now cuffed-mind
Soared the air
With wings dispersed in the wind
Still when she didn't care
And thought I was harmless

She tried shooting me down
And got one through a wing
Now I think I want to be an accountant
Mediocre and sane

But who wants to have sanity
When you can be in it?
So I crashed into Hyperion
And as high as I am
She still sends her vicious winds
To try and cut me down

But her torment crafts precious stones
So in the interim
I'll hold on
Hoping that I can un-cuff my mind
Keeping a birds-eye view
Like a leopard waiting for its ****

So that one day
I can glide the universe
Wings distributed out wide
Skillful and experienced
So she can never shoot me down

Now
Perched on Hyperion
Patient and vigilant
I wait

when I look into your eyes
it's like watching a black hole
as everything in its orbit is sublimated,
spaghettified, caught outside time
trapped into the toxic love of the unlimited-density-object
time slows down, and it slows,
and it slows, and it slows,
until it stops.
and nothing ever reaches the center.

The earth is never still
torrential momentum
can you feel it too?
The way the universe moves in pivots
on clockwork, centripetal lensing

Locked upon the surface, inert
Stagnant never stopping
Living in transitions
I am
Expeditious

If I were cast
into the void of nought
to sit in stillness
would Time shift
to a grinding halt?

Would the gears of reality
befall me
as I am consumed
into the fleeting rescendance?

Light-speed is dark
color blurs, and lines of stars
are not but imagery
when nothing can reach a mass
which tears itself from gravity
unmoving

If I were to melt
into time itself
becoming spaghettified
energetic, formless
would’st petrificatiON
arise belied to existence?

Could, then, I be
without me
without freeform, broken
penchant

Time shifts in days on
Ever standing in coagulant collision
Universal
Rot

Many dimensions intersect us
Poking through the perforations
Of the quantum flux

And soulbound to the collective
Is the suspended intervision

I am introspect, delicate derelict
A piece of self, its own
Unknown to space’s haste
A purer nothing

Then pop!
Come I, again, to being
To become undone by tunneling
Through infinitesimal
Again, herein
The fabrix of
what Matters

From 9 to 5 the bilboes tighten,
a range of cacoethes spin my mind,
but to pay the bills, I work,
not just to fill the time.

The clepsydra has gone dry,
even as time passes it stands still,
at the end of the day the shackles open,
but I go home with no thrill.

A vidiot at home,
my thoughts spaghettified,
****** into the nothingness,
all of them undignified.

I long for something different,
to degust the spice of life,
but trapped inside the blandness,
nothing here but rife.