Houston, We Have A Problem

I tell myself I’ve never been baked but the truth is I have a habit of getting higher than all the druggies in the world.
You see, when my mind goes blast off and jet propels into the ionosphere it has a tendency to keep going.
It unhooks its leash and waves at passing Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and even Pluto because size should not define you.
And my mind stops for a round with the magnetic bubbles that supposedly play bumper cars at the edge of the solar system.
Shoots past Orion, past andromeda, past every quasar every pulsar and even avoids the what ifs of black holes.
And this untethered thinker picks up speed as she goes because change is inevitable and you can’t live in the past without a future.
My intentions were to draw, to draw cracks, to draw shadows, to draw nearer to God because he will draw near to me.
But floating in galaxy nine was literal and leaves me worse than James Lovell cause I’m out of range of “Houston, we have a problem.” even though 13 saved their lives.
I was born on 13 but it’s the twelfth that’s to die for and He did.
The Lord died for 12 and 11 and 10 and 9 and 8 and 7 and 6 and 5 and 4 and 3 and 2 and 1 and 0 and every other invalid in this sick world. Because “void” is not in his vocabulary.
David is now watched by the world but I’m only watched by one and that’s more frightening and insane and unbelievably perfect than any stellar birth can be.
I was born twice and that’s more than any star can say.
Houston may have saved Lovell but Jesus is Love and He saved me with love and Lovell and that’s more than any loved Lovell can say to any Houston.