You look at her and see her beauty
I look at her and think what you think
I see her creative spark and the way she smiles.

Though, what she does not tell us
is that her mind
has ran out
of words
We have lost our window into her mind.

They come to me as whispers in the night
Though they don't strike at night
They catch me in broad daylight

Large hands that wrap around my throat
And they drag me back

When I try to run, when I try to escape
They grab me by the ankle and drown me in the dark and murky waters they reside by

They've made it very clear they don't like me
The people in my head... they don't like me.

I can feel it.
It's constantly perched on my shoulders.
Breathing down my neck
Icy fingers dragging down my cheek
Sickeningly sweet
I don't let myself dwell on it for long.
But when I do...
When I face the inevitable, I know
There's nowhere I can run

Sometimes, I tend to
watch blood
as I make it gush
out of my body
like it hates me
too.

Between drags of my cigarette,
I lie back on the concrete
and stare into the night sky.

The stars are beautiful tonight, aren’t they?

Not because the air is clear,
or that the heavens are unusually bright
but because tonight I see their depth,
their quiet elegance,
the way they gather into a canvas
stitched across light-years.

The way they align feels like perfection
a harmony born of distance,
comfort found
in the vastness of the abyss.

I trace the Big Dipper,
Orion too.
Not for anyone else,
but for the stone that cradles my skull,
for the roots beneath the soil,
for the spiders weaving
in the leaves at my side.

I’m almost finished with the cigarette now.
But some part of me wants to stay out here,
just me and the stars
serendipity
in their quiet, endless beauty.

We all crave something,
But once it's in our hands,
The craving ,the longing,
The spark—it disappears,
Drifting away
Like a leaf upon the river.