I’ve been caught in a mental black hole,
Routine collapsing into singularity,
A singularity of singularly circular thinking,
Where time and space are ripped from existence,
And I am both dead and alive at the same time,
Where I exist separately to baryonic matter,
Shielded by an event horizon of twisted thoughts;
Black holes are where information goes to die,
The thought of becoming one may make you cry,
Yes, time is finite to us mortal particles,
But it, too, is in a sense subjective,
And black holes do not last forever,
They, too, eventually will radiate.
There is always time enough,
To drift in peace amongst the stars.