not all who wander are lost...

but i am.
in a starless night.

the velvety soft surface,
seemingly warm,
descends downward
and suffocates me.

and with no north star,
no orian,
no dipper, big or little,
to guide this wanderer home,

an empty vacuum emerges
snorting the lines of my life away.

until it is cracked-out to capacity
with colors too prevalent,
overcrowded,
and mashed together -

my identity is lost
in this blackness
wanting light.