The sky near evaporated into a rushing state of heinous nuances.
Gone by are conditions protected by ethereal instillations.
The fears disintegrate into the crushing weight of grievous consequences.
All my aspirations are disconnected constellations.
Heart collapse, I see now consumption, consuming, consumed.
Bound by only by departing, I chart the scraps as if a path in rubble leads to a star which I could fill with solitude.
Heart relapse, I flee now presumption, presuming at least I’ve presumed correctly.
Foreground die, if only by glowing eyes that impart the traps of wrath that redouble like seeds afar which fill the counterweights of fortitude.
-M