existential youth

Universe, what happens to us who chain smoke boredom in the soggy night?
Saturated in static, we wear our belonging like makeup, caked and blended into a collection of faces.
Universe, we sing and no doubt it's to you.
Your vastness envelopes us and we blush at your omnipotence
Universe, big brother, only you see us drawing eyes and telling lies
What happens to a budding soul?
Do we float with the stars? Are we alone?
What happens to a 3-day high? Will it give us the attention we wait for?
Universe, we only bond with self destruction, lacing it into our corsets, tight and ready for war.
We have dreams of selling our bodies and souls and it feels free when we can tell ourselves no.
Universe, who has sat themselves between my feet.