the ink
inside my pen
dried out,

as I squeezed metaphors
from it;

yet, the impression
left behind,
creased
my heart

until the synonym
was tangled between syllables of melancholia
and tangibility

a twisted
embracement
to make me sink deeper
into the abyss
of unexplained
sonnets.

I shed armor-
encrusted
in rhinestones,
as the moon wakes me
from stupor.