Hope, Violently

I am waiting patiently for my mind to seep back through my body. My solidity and substance have kindly taken leave. Separate now. Define me with your best words, for tonight, I am grey material and disgustingly, insignificant. In my hand before me is the picturesque idea you had drawn out and had given to me. You have weakened further these walls. Even more, you have caused a blizzard of swimming cells raging through me. The fragility and strengths of my own body are no longer my own now. Do you not already see?

In my other hand, is a book. Each page weighing as much as this stolen universe. Every phrase that has been unfolded, stands upright and proud of the stories it has told. One of which was gravity and this, and this, and this. Yes it was gravity that you taught me that would have been the cause of all destruction. You reminded me how simple it was to understand it; you defined it as a black hole of infinitely compressed time. It became an addiction to recite these words as a form of reminder. Now all I do is envelope myself completely in your nights of moon and these are nights, I've found home.

P/S: I recall the taste of mornings in March. The day I turned 2, 12 or even 20 and it made me wonder, would it have mattered then as it would have had now, had I a bigger heart?