i prefer it to die

There's no sense in resisting  
   or foreboding soft trembles from the sun
      that dimly shadow this ecru path I've been carving
         with the bones of too many days tired without the moon
            racking her stark finger nails along the spine of my minuscule dreams

            I don't want to think of onyx portraitures immersed in dirty guitar rifts
         inviting anxious motes floating in the brink of my tiny periphery
      cause those glass features segue in ways I don't understand
   and hindsight, damned hindsight, is warped again today
with it's multi saturated hues radiating from a star

                                                  that was never meant to shine in my eyes
                                                     or ricochet kaleidoscope light rays to begin with