Pulled again, slowly, into the stillness of the night.
Left to consider the implications of starlight.
Looking up. Up, as far as my vertebrae will go.
Getting confused whether I am above or below.
Waves hitting my retina – they’re aimless, relentless.
They are a burning reminder that past is endless.
As I strain my eyes to gaze at a wandering star,
I ask it “When did you die and did you leave a scar?”
There is no reply. I doubt there has ever been one.
Or ever will be. Darkness is where silence has won.
You surrender to chaos. Scar. Decay. And repair.
You die. You destruct. What I see is no longer there.