Clouds of solid gold rain down silver tears onto the pavement.

Nightmares from past lives swarm my cells, infecting each one with a heartbeat that is not my own.

Too many heartbeats and the body shuts down. An override system that kills what keeps me alive.

Secrets I take to my grave are buried beneath the blood ridden earth.

Overflowed with the gold tears of the sky,

I lay down and take my final breath.

Glass shards pierce my fragile skin, breaking beneath the surface and into the inferno.

Young blood to new to be spilled. Red spheres spilling down the body like it's crying.

Seven billion people in the world.

The number decreases every day.

Am I next?

Seven billion people in the world.

Enough for everyone. Never enough for me.

If there are so many people then why am I so lonely?