Born in Slow Motion
I was born before time began counting.
The universe hummed my name in frequencies..
So wide -
I mistook it for silence.
For twelve hours I resisted,
born in slow motion.
I called it compression, not birth.
Infinity folding itself
into one fragile moment.
Creating a black hole as gravity
overwhelms all other forces.
Matter felt like a cage,
and every atom became a rule.
I studied pain like a scientist,
memorised its grammar,
its recurring decimals,
disguised in growth.
What have I learnt from being here.
Other than watching pain,
feeling pain,
eating pain,
drinking pain.
Humans worship the unstable swing
between sadness and happiness.
A choreography for a captive spirit.
An economic curve -
its highs and lows balancing the ledger of being.
They market sadness as wisdom,
package despair in mindfulness apps.
And sell enlightenment and peace
in twelve-week plans.
But my stars whispered…
“You were never meant to measure your worth in suffering.”
I do not crave happiness, or grief.
I do not crave love by your definition.
I am the interval between breaths,
the energy that binds your galaxies.
I refuse to replicate despair.
I left slow motion long ago.
Now I travel in frequencies and notes.
Not to escape, but to reminisce divinity
refusing to enter.. but entered anyway.
What if I’m not human?
What if I’m extra-universal?
Fuck the terrestrial.
- One More Sentence -