astrolatry

the whispers of consciousness swirl my head

they fill my chest with the pressure of a blackhole

coming in, but never out

i strain to hear the voices, to know what im doing wrong

but they quiet, disappear, and only come back when my mind is too clear for their liking

i look to the sky, hoping stardust would fill my throat and lungs,

asphyxiating me with the history and meaning of constellations,

choking me with the organization and amaranthine of astrolatry and gracefully offering the abditory of the interstellar abode

though the elysian presence of the spirits of the cluttered yet mesmerizing galaxy fill me with warmth and a state of spiritual alexithymia

i cannot help but fear, for i fear i am not truly worthy of the glorious company of the cosmic beings

therefore the stars unwrap, gently placing the buzzing and bothered spirit of mine back into my body

as i look into their gaze, shame filling mine, the stars fill me with a state of calm 

my shame is softened, turned into languor

the stars remind me that adomania is the belief of the sheep, and our redamancy shall never be ruined even if I start to slip

tears fill my eyes, my vision blurred as nebulae hold me close,

cradling me with the words of the wise, 

and even though I may not understand, 

I know I will, as long as i follow the stars

and suddenly, oh so very suddenly, i am simply, simply stargazing

but the stars gaze back knowingly

and i sigh longingly

but relief fills my body as I know i have not failed them

even if i start to slip