"I'm Learning that I'm a Star"

I’m learning
that my heart is a star;
but instead of nuclear fusion
of hydrogen that forms helium,
it is fueled by desolation,
fear and fumy frustration
which form frightening fusion
and gradually turn
into terrible depression.

Every time I hear
my own heartbeat,
I feel an internal eruption,
much like a cosmic body
that’s fated to settle its extinction.
Never have I known
why my breathing
occasionally sounds
like a planetary outburst
that horribly disturbs
my serenity,
my sanity.
I hate it.

I hate it every time
my body becomes
a deadly aquarium,
that when I try to escape,
the more I snare myself,
the more I lose myself.
And finding the old me
Feels like an endless voyage
or an unending battle
with my own galaxy.
But do I still really have to fight?
I hate to say that I shall try.

I hate it when the veins
from my fingers
form a trembling constellation
and my feeble kneecaps
shatter to its motion.
It feels like my body
creates a galactic outbreak
where even my brain
can’t control the brake.

How am I supposed to stop
my own explosion?
How am I supposed to stop
exploding?

I’m learning
that I’m a mere star;
but instead of nuclear fusion
of hydrogen that forms helium,
I am burned by depression
that fuses with a vision
of a cosmic deterioration
and together turn
into a universal explosion –
my own explosion.

Exploding in my own shelf
exhausts me;
but still, I’m trying
to find a way
to save myself.