Cringing from the impact,
Caressed by the moons shadow,
Oxygen drained,
Red faced,
Floating in the dark,
Untouched by the dim lights of
Distant stars.
Nothing more than a stiff figure,
A tall glass of iced blood
On the cusp of toppling,
Leaking and splintering into
Jagged pieces.
Nothing more.
Earth is pretty blue boy
With white freckles and
Deep-grooved grins.
Try to touch him, and you might
Burn.
Reach out to his hands and you might
Fall.
I live behind the myopia,
Beyond into
Ether.
All there is to do is
Float by and enjoy the view.
From the dark.
YOU ARE READING
Today Wasn't The Best
Poetry"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you." -Joseph Heller
