Star Wanderer

Extra terrestrial
I am star seeds planted gold.

The explanation for why this doesn't feel
Like it is home.

Memories caught on video tape, we laugh, replay and love.

Detached and alienated to understanding how we're all living.
Remaining here with overbearing fatigue and insanity.

Lost in finding the nebula from which I came from.

Too exhausted to create an effort to succeed.
Anything tormented and lonely.

Where to find the last missile.
Light it up,
Ascending to sky, painted clouds and furbished lands.

Gravity is the death of me.

Conscious Bud Of Light

In the cell vibrating, pulsing
A fluid producing existence.

Floating and wandering beyond
These hollow streets,
And fleeting countries.

A sour sun that burns,
Scoured earth on scorching panorama.

The outside blooms green,
Like veins appearing as river streams.

Escaping through the tubes, producing oxygen to a beating heart.

Cut it off, to find the bittersweet termination.

The timing circling in quickening paces.
Days becoming years, smiles becoming fears.

Over and above, I am willing to break myself off.
This path. This cell is shaken. Lost in an airway.

No longer living like broken skin off a mattress waiting to be swept.
Ultimate aspiration bleeds for death.

Level after layer, after step after floor.
Can't distinguish where the reality is.

Waking, or dreaming.
Breathing or Sleeping.
Pinch me. Wake me. Suffocate me.

Sound the alarm.
Where do I wake from bewildering shudder rest
Or is it psychasthenia?