PROJECTLAMBDA

The memory of the event washes over me like a subfusc breeze

Endowing me with a sense of angst and agony

Wishing that my actions were not of one regret but one of atonement

The smoke clears from my head

Balance enters my relm with every breath

Sweat flowing from my skin

Surface tension endlessly forcing things together, like the iron core of dying star

Return me to ash, spread me across this place

Return me to space stuff

Return me to a place where the quiet ones speak

Return me to a place where I can sleep