Dark wisps of foul smoke rise languidly in the idleness of a silent night. No. It's like a silent chaos beautifully hemmed, occasionally with form, and for a moment, without. Why have I left myself here. Why did I let go. Tonight, I, myself and maybe me, are like a few, erratically merged in a constant flurry of questionable consciousness. Swirling and tumbling in pretty, vivid colours.

Winds sway more than they can carry, and then- you appear.

You introduced a concept; one that I might be able to squeeze into, maybe pretend that I would fit in with a norm of your society I can hardly relate. You found my eccentricity a toy, and then you brought me lower, not deeper. Then in your eyes you made me that wisp of smoke, diffusing quickly into the vast canvas of the nothingness you condemn me to.

A coin has two faces, and by your "chance" you made it one. But mine remains two.

And even with two, I feel lonely tonight.