Fission
I’m an atom
splitting in half and
I am terrified of
what is inside.
If it isn’t one thing
it’s another
life
like
snowflake
and if you look
closely, examine
the patterns are
random jagged edges
not beautiful or
unique just
soulless
happenstance
nature.
Hand to hold
rejoin and rejoice
the particles
positive or negative
and all of the empty
space in between
it’s a joke, a
sickening crunch of
tiny bones underneath
the stupid boot of
coincidence,
and there’s a storm brewing
a cloud over you, forever.
