Space

Im so tired,
So tired of this wall

Im so tired
So tired I can't see at all

Broken, chipping
Dreams to seep

Ash remains from fire,
Flames arise in hell

Who wants to be, anyone but me?
Fuck this mind that can't leave behind
An empty void, black and bleeding
Black and bleeding, a fall that is deceiving..

Fight the breath you've choked on
Swallow salt in ocean
When blind, unkind
You know that all these hearts will die.

Patience you say to me, your friend
No time for that when time is an enemy
That beats us all, to rage and call
To age and dust back our living
Through the potent cycle, turn remains of earth
We're done.

Innocence is declining, hollow world defining
All dreadful things, emerge and breeze unfulfilling.

Not in the head- drowned in distilling contamination
Condemns my unpolished soul, punished impulse strangling
A hope uprooted and destructed

Save your voice, kill the sun
Burning, brightness is the gun

Humanity slipping,
Civilization is awakening foreign, evil.

I need a galaxy, opening.
Take me, whole.
I will pulse through your radiation of light.

A beg screams, "Turn me into constellations." 

Detached in Imagination

Rolling waves, and staggering seas.
Wind being inhaled and exhaled out of me.
Fire twisting, igniting burning light.

Stars and planets to look up to through the night.

Thoughts in broken pieces and loss of memory or explanation.

All I feel is a pang. A sting. A burn. That continues to pulse through my entire being.

Taken up by beating sorrows captured in my heart.
Unwilling to let go and be released through my brittle veins.

A pen in my hand can't move, a thought in my mind can't breathe.
An eye in the dark cannot see.

Demand to be shot through a forest and lose your way home.
Contained with useful actions and communication.
So you won't have to think or learn
Just how to bear
everything you want ignored.

Im outside of my body, detached from the world.
And I am incapable of giving you an answer to anything of what it is in the world that is certain.
Or what is real.

The whistle of the wind, being wind.
I wish it were a friend.
That could tell me just what I am.