The Birth of a Star

if I could do what I wanted, uninhibited

like a child or 

like god

maybe I would be violent.

what would all the years of soundless anger, of shock, of–of–

stuttered grief and white white hot rage unleashed 

look like? I am hungry for catastrophe or maybe salvation, 

starving. have you ever seen a star explode?

a catharsis in the collapse, I would be

blindingly beautiful for 

a moment.

and then a cosmic carnage painted

on the walls of the universe and behind my head. 

and I wouldn’t worry about hurting other people or

places or things,

because that is what uninhibited means, I think.

no threads of empathy or love or hate or sadness

anymore. and it won’t even last forever anyway, as 

everything is nothing 

in the cosmos. temporary.

for a single moment, less than a quarter of a second,

after a million years of pacing behind caged teeth,

I, too, will be free.

-supernova