Meraki

make a home out of the stars

let me tell you that it isn't easy: being a poet surrounded by science. it is a jumbled mess.

poetry is about making something out of nothing, giving a thing meaning. I can talk about the universe for hours and hours without getting bored: I'll tell you about magic and about a world of wonder that doesn't exist outside the boundaries of my mind.

science will teach me about the world. tell me why stars shine, how far away they are and why they're only visible in the dark. science tells you when the stars will burn out, at what moment, and why. it puts an expiration date on them.

I like to think they are eternal; a comfort that doesn't need to shift to stay the same. they will always burn, they burn but are not destroyed, and that is what is eternal about them.

And so my heart swells with these two loves. one causes distress, one is cathartic.One reveals the truth of every thing and the other paints portrait of the world with my own thoughts.

You don't choose who you love, do you? i've found two. one will swallow me whole and spit me out to the other to help heal. send these loves to my brain! let them bask in the essence of my soul without destroying my heart in the process.

my anxiety is feeding off both so much that I am forgetting what love is. maybe if I love myself, they will learn how to treat me right. but there is no time for me to even think about love, let alone redirect its trajectory my way. i'm a planet with no orbit, moving at a constant speed, because i'm being pulled on both sides by science and art. floating aimlessly through space. my throat keeps closing up, maybe my heart should too. i'm a planet, but i have an urge to metamorphose into a star and burn. 

i wonder what happens when planets burn. doesn't matter, i'm making a home out of the stars either way. they will keep me safe either way, their expiration date isn't synchronized with them. i'll drown in them and get washed away by a pillow of stars.  i'll let them cradle me to sleep. i'll still hold both art and science in my arms at rest, because without them and without the stars, i am incomplete. 

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aimless babbling! enjoy, loves!