I spend my nights closer to the moon, drinking fantasies out of craters and snorting stardust. Bathing under the Darkness of being closer to the Light than I'd ever been before. You could almost smell the pungency of morbid exclamations and partial intentions. A moment closer and then longer spent running out of attraction. Watching the gaseous universe paint a particular Spectrum over and over until the ink drains through the permeability of my self. So I'm just another lost star, nailed into the space, a scar that turned from scarlet to grey. Perhaps a life cycle waiting to fall asleep in the midst of this apostasy. Drawing conclusions on what makes me after I break. So until my drink devours me and the sky splits like an egg, I hide in the velvet folds of afflictions. Which don't render me maimed, but just disabled when it comes to letting go. My intoxicated state that illuminates my senses in such a way that the night dances to that first song that we shared. The song that sits on the tip of my tongue, ready to roll back. I can never know it. That was the price I was paying for being close to the universe, for being close to you. The gradual fade and decay of the little clarity I held. The disappearance of all the funny little things that you said. I spend my nights closer to the moon, regardless of where you are. The night is dark, and so am I. There's a taste of burning desire that is turning to ashes. A blazing fire and a home of wreckage. Inhaling the soot, Watching the gaseous universe paint a particular Spectrum over and over until the paint runs out. So I'm just another naked star hanging by a string, too afraid to burst into colour. Royally drinking the grey, until all the lights are turned out.