There was a bullet hole way too deep
in my chests, my flesh feeling cold
to the touch, causing me to be stressed,
dejected, my veins and bones feeling alone,
long gone, alarmed, disarmed, losing
my eyesight and flight in the blinding light,
disintegrating in neglected mazes, divided
pages, my skin sizzling, swollen, lost poetry
poisoned.  I was beginning to conceptualize
the stormy scene, the serenity slipping away
from me in the distant and darkened seas,
the gleam traversing away from my white,
sweat-soaked face.  The chilling beat
was psychologically crazed, unstaged,
playing with my innermost thoughts,
creating a leakage, a blockage to my heart
as I searched for a shooting star, to carry
me from this world of misery.