Collapsed Star

Pastel clouds hang over sadness 
like night draws black satin curtains, 
over absent-minded eyes.

Darkness drips, 
collapses star bold and black bottomless chasm, 
dragging dirt and debris of past-
Lifeless haze hangs heavily
overhead, pressures plummet-
She sinks into rain filled with pain.
She steeps,
deeper into blood shamed marrow.
She spoils, 
Inside rotten. 
Staggering through the storm-

Alone

She bleeds stone through cracks in cold hearts;
her roots shaken, she's stirred.
Undernourished, depleted, sick.
Dried up and calloused in the belly of Venus.
Her shape, full round purple planet
held at the base of my lunar spine. 
Yet, the wreckage remains blurred-

How does the universe implode?
Explode!
I can still hear grief-stricken screams
petrified, calcified inside the bones of ribs-
Skeleton dribbles and drains,
scandals, scraped and shredded in shedding skins. 
Am I torn or reborn?
I can't lift my head to see the horizon-
I'm bound at the foot of the Dragon. 
Slayed by the tongue of my underbelly.
I'm engulfed, convulsing and heaving
I can't sip in blood stained air!
I'm motionless in the mire,
seared inside the incineration-

My affliction stains the clouds...
The pastel clouds,
Passing...         Passing...        Passing...

Passing.

Me.

By-

- J. Circosta, Tiny Poet, 2016