overexposed. the garden glows and grows. fallen idols burn in the distance minicing dawn. but i know here in darkland there is no dawn. just smoke and mirrors. for the first time in days i begun to dance that old familiar dance. the one that burns from the inside. so many layers, so little energy left. starlight starbright, first satellite that i see tonight, burn. after all is said and done, im still a fucking flower. discolouring by number.
i am light. sour and curling in the dark. tranformer transitioning transformation. i am waiting. for fission. for spiritual division. for my cells to breakback down to the stardust that is the basis of all atomic matter. then and only then will the light i really am made of be free to shoot acroos the night sky. make a wish.