Telescope (For Space & Time Competition)

Telescope

Folds and creases form in wrapping
Crinkles in cheap balloons still float among
the windowsills beside my bed

Once I finally tear off the last crinkle of wrapping paper
The object is fully revealed
My rate, alike a caterpillar forming into a butterfly,
I am reborn in the glass lens of my new telescope.

A cluster of enigmatic lights
stretching across my pupil
An unfathomable inevitability upon my limited existence

Perhaps it isn't my body that's alive
It's the idea of my existence among this that lives
A concept of myself floating among
all the inevitability my mailbox-like brain can receive

It would be impossible
To see earth from the naked eye
I would have to die directly after

A life outside my dull, nonliving brain
To finally have my frail arms escape
my brother's college sweater

The next day at school
An empty lunch table, alike the emptiness I felt last night
The living idea that I could float among there
is as inevitable as space itself.