it leaps in the throat and makes me cough,
I try to lounge on the warm stars,
but find no comfort,
all I can do is watch for the signs,
intertwined with scars,
what's it all bringing me,
that shiver jetting down my spine,
I can't see life out here in the darkness,
instead I witness it grow and blossom,
I'm without a cape to fly,
nor words to mystify,
I write with my pen each day in order to
conjure a play for the world to see,
what an audience that would be,
what a time to finally sleep.
