I lay here...

Wrapped in my cocoon
confined tightly in my acrylic acid envelope
while the February air with the last touch of death,
sneaks quietly through the window:

I surrender to sounds that
provoke images behind my eyes
in my cocoon I reject those naysayers
and clutch onto breath from now on in -
what's fated to come I will undoubtedly learn from:

your voice swells in my head
and forces those little droplets to grieve
and then reprieve:

with a paper and pen in my unfamiliar grasp
these words so carefully planned out
somehow seem to disappear
all those words I should know by now
somehow come to escape me:

may I borrow a line or two
beauty, my heart speaks to you -
and yours to mine throughout this crucial time:
"I know where I'm going
and it ain't where I've been."

once there was a somber silence
luster-lack and lethargic age of being
but here is just a fleeting moment
and my voice isn't the greatest
but I'm tired of sitting quiet.