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Universe

I am.

By Kylee StowellPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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I am anything and everything. I am not alive but everything lives in me. I am infinite and ever-expanding. More than a person, more than words, I cannot be explained. Not caged by bones, my only master is God. I spin galaxies as a spider spins a web, each one unique unto itself. I paint planets, like drops of watercolor falling onto a canvas. I have no worries or obligations, I only create and destroy, but there is always beauty in my destruction. With each supernova, an explosion of light and matter echoes like a beating heart. A new star is born, pinpointed across space like freckles on skin. You connect the dots, forming constellations.

Some make fetal attempts to understand me, but I am made up of unknowns. Some have made me out to be an all-powerful entity, creating life and death, and bestowing my judgment upon them. I am not a being or a mere object, I just am. My beginning and ending are not known, so I do not worry about time, I simply exist; doing whatever I please. Throwing comets and asteroids through space, skipping them like stones on water. The moons dance around their planets, and the planets twirl around stars in their own group. Stars cluster around them, seeming so close but so far away. They congregate forming a blur of color and light. Everything is in me, burning and exploding; a collection of everything inside of a vast nothingness. I am the universe.

surreal poetry
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