Never mind the world behind my eyes.
Or the earth within my skin.
Neither the diamonds swimming in teal blood.
For these are unfairly fairy tales.

Stale stories plucked from a withered imagination.
Tilting on the edge of a translucent dream.
The region which surrounds my form is lucid.
A prism reflecting the many colors of my pieces.

They who dwells in the internal galaxy knows me well.
For I am the matter which you breath in and blow out.

I am Human Dusk.

The sunset and sunrise of old endings and new beginnings.