<RA 2° 42′ 21″ | Dec 83° 32.400′>

You found an [EXIT]
Beneath the orbital eclipse by which you entered the world
A Gallic giant crossed by stars, asteroids, anomaly
But perhaps you believed this innocuous leviathan
Was a voyeuristic bystander to our forsaken species
A sadist, cultivating its own intricate little humant farm
Of dying things
And so you dizzied yourself upon the                                                         hula-hooping
Of its brilliant rings

You are twenty-seven.
A cursed age, or a self-fulfilling prophecy
Yet another of Earth’s slimy inhabitants
Stargazing for semantics
Far beyond the miasma of your own scumbucket
Where existences spill upon one another
Skirting and siphoning strategically in a game of liquid tetris
Afraid to splash audaciously
To settle within their peers’ discomfort
To kaleid

You have wearied of these urban catacombs
That analyse and interrogate beneath UFO beams
This little petri dish of the iridescently hidden
With retinas polluted by floodlights
To coddle from kamikaze
A shield from the nightly seppuku of a star-crossed sky
Collapsing in on itself

You rub your eyes until vision becomes the grainy purgatory
Of a video tape prickled with sharp needles
Of a cosmos absent from the alien spotlight of the skies
Searching for an empathetic gaze
In glass-shard gutters and event horizons

You are captivated by the planets which suffer in silence
So unlike our noisy hub, a radio satellite of novelty sound effects
You are deafened to the splitting cries of interstellar defeat
Fat and privileged on the static buzz of ignorance
Too indulged upon despondence that you do not watch your step
With a knife to your wrist
A noose to your throat
A bottle to your lips
Tranced and ‘toxicated, you succumb to an interstellar seduction
And blame it on the only galaxy
To cradle you this far, and beyond

Zetetic separator

 

—Alex Creece keeps her tea leaves as loose as her grasp on reality. She is nebulous and neurotic, and can be found under your bed whispering terrible things during the night. Alex loves literature, kindness and stormy weather. She aspires to one day be a ghastly apparition that people see before they die.

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