As the blazing star resolves in the ocean,
The haunting echoes come out of hiding.

My trembling fingers long for the
blood-soaked glass slab to firmly
stroke my withering skin.

The slabs of my broken,
blood-soaked mirror,
sheen brighter than
my lighter ever could.

Dried blood awakens my
soul, so much so I lose
sight of the cocaine lying
on the floor.

The rising lunar star haunts my fainting whispers.
The rising lunar star haunts my dying whispers.
The rising lunar star settles in my mellifluous screeches.
The rising lunar star settles in my blase screeches.