Dying Star

13 Jun

My heart is a dying star,
when I walk to the bus
stop, the mist & fog
dissolve around and
Into me.

The concrete sidewalk
catches the pieces
falling from me,
absorb back into me.
I become a mass of broken pieces.
my mass outweighs the light.

At the bus stop,
the star reaches for my thoughts.
Swallows them
and those of the people around me.
They disappear,
I breathe them in.

Wind rushes past me.
Growing louder
at my center, it hums and screams
I can hear it protest
as it careens into
me, into the star
into the widening Space.
It is lost with a hiss.

Walking to work, I
I am no longer a dying star.
I am a Space – a black hole.

Everything gravitates towards me.
Eyes, ears, cars
exhaust
mist, fog, hands.
Everything disintegrates into me,
becomes a part of me.

Light and mist gain speed.
They run in.
The Space widens,
no longer just a black hole.
Rather a deep, black, living hole.
a being
a thing. No beginning,
no end.

Pass by a window,
look at it.
It’s a hole without edges –
I imagine I look at an enigma.

The Space is me.

My fingers are black.
My eyes are replaced
by fathomless cavities.
I am no longer
me.
really.

Only a dying star,
a black hole.
pain, hope, loss, love
sadness
become nothing.
I become nothing.
Am Nothing
Nothing.

but a dying star.

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