The only proof I could ever give you
Of the Big Bang Is that, my soul Is a mess of cosmic dust.
You can tell I was made from pieces.
A bit of this and that, Never quite a full picture, Just shoved together.
A confusing kaleidoscope:
A desire to run and yet never wanting to leave, Loyal to death and yet horrified of commitment.
I am a huge jumble
Of mismatched asteroids.
I'm so sorry for the cosmos
That burst apart to make me.