I Am An Astronaut

I wrote this when I was going through a really bad time and literally felt like dying. Ahem.

Am I supposed to be,
Attached to this life?
Because if so,
My strings are cut.

And I am an astronaut,
Musing down from the stars,
Seeing this sphere,
As a watery prison.

While I'm meant to fear,
Death with a weakness,
That should shake me,
Awake from my nightmares.

Making me the grim reaper,
Himself for I fear death not,
In fact, I think I rather,
Welcome the companionship.

Without loving the sun,
When it shines on my face,
Because it burns instead,
Of warming the hole in my chest.

So I guess I am a vampire,
Appreciating not the light but the night,
And if I step outside I must,
Blow away into a handful of dust.

For I am supposed to be,
The opposite of a morbid vessel,
But I am not plein de vie and,
All that jazz will make me say that.

If I make dying sound exotic,
In another language,
I want to go not peacefully,
But joyfully with my legs kicking.

And my hands clapping,
And my mouth screaming,
Till the very end.
By Starri Nyght

Posted in: Poems