supernovae.

the bittersweet taste of humility touches my tongue

and scalds my mouth, merciless and unforgiving

when I ponder the thought that I am the speck of a speck

drifting along, unknowing and unhindered

when I think of our true genesis, of our origins

that we are just the residue of eons upon silent eons

of violent, paramount celestial commotion

I feel terribly small but utterly invincible

for we are not humans, with mortal desires

but stardust, erupted from ancient catastrophes.

we died in supernovae, incomprehensibly far away

in a lifetime so distant we can’t capture its ghost

yet here we are, living our afterlives blindly

unaware that we once were the source of our light.

 

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