The Loneliest Constellation

How can one be so lonely from the beginning,                
From the cellular start                
               
Before the tongue and breath have formed, before the light touches the baby                
               
Maybe it was rotting in the marrow of my bitter father,              
Tortured in a nebula of his own mind and violence                
               
The infant understanding selfishness in the winning of all this existence              
     
Yes, I should have let a son take my place              
               
Perhaps, it was in the suffocating softness of my frailty,      
The gross texture of its dependence unaware to me      
     
Neglected from the tit of an even more lorn mother              
And nothing beats the drug of love, except the uppers              
               
Some could be found in the spit and fist of my first lovers to shake me                
As the earthquake that will bury my heart and cunt in its rubble                
That I will never truly be clean of                
               
The men and women that will make me feel an eternal winter in my guts                
               
It's sickening, to die this slowly              
As if the earth has learned patience                
               
Raising the child to live with only the spine and a shallow smile              
               
I only show my crooked teeth to the sun                
I let it cook me until I don’t feel as raw              
       
              
Laying on the warm flesh of dirt, I find grace in these moments      
Listening to the gossip of beetles and worms      
I dig my hands in its bed of soil to take a piece with me                
               
A collaboration of filth- of living                
               
I watch the light, but mostly, I feel it, The death of the star      
 
Setting              
               
Claiming it’s warmth back from me                
               
Oh how I too wish I could leave                
To choose how long this face of the earth could have me                
               
I imagine, I disappear with it              
               
Where would I float, Where would I fall              
               
Searching for a warmer moon, I attempt to turn into shadow                
               
My naked mountain still and silent                
Just how the blushing peak of Mt. Lassen taught me              
               
I stretch my limbs, ugly and contorted        
Reaching for the meteorite that mocks my escape              
My hair holding the fingers of broken branches, making promises I do not wish to keep              
My empty hips forming craters in the dead pillow of oak leaves                
               
Soft as decay, it fills me              
Touching the empty space I forgot was there              
               
I forgot was mine              
               
My skeleton appearing broken              
Unnaturally mimicking the sculpture of the stars                
               
That tease the stories out of men                
needing to own even the beauty of their death                
               
I don’t wish for the same fate or art             
               
In fact,              
I pity them, All of the trillions                
           
I’d have wanted to disappear by now                
               
To be buried deeper than history,                
Releasing the structure of my name and shape to the explosion,          
The brumal bite of its presage come true, fulfilling its promise           
Consuming all this collected lonely that's been stalking,        
To devour the tick in the heart          
           
To feel the orgasm of finality touching me,          
Consenting to be ripped apart with purposeful dispersion            
Feed it to my family and to the hands that touched me        
Please, find some pity in my frailty          
         
I'd Bless the earth and its company with tasting my mossy stardust          
Let it feast on my forgiveness for years         
            
       
So that I too may own peace              
       
Without having to give a story for it