My eyes are fixed on the stars, they stream past like a show reel.

I have legs like a failing stream, moving but faint.

My lungs resenting my iniquity.

I grate my larynx through my body’s grief.

All alone I consider everyone else.

Let all of this entirely pass.

Let my legs become a river.

My lungs finally forgive me.

Let people fall like hailstones under my newness.

I wish for the inferno within to never expire.

The stars will carry on regardless.