Psycho Astronaut

White knuckles as I
fall into the middle
of the thing I’m most scared of,
but I’m too scared
to tell you what that is.

I’m just a thing that I
should not have been,
a feature refusing to blend
into the backdrop of
infinite carelessness.

Maybe I don’t care
about the jitters or
those little critters that
laugh at my despair,
but I don’t mean to rhyme.

I forgot what it feels like
to float in nothing,
to hope that maybe something
so fraught with panic
could be organic after all.

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