Starbulbs

You are what I scream for.
Though I’ve not learned how, or why, or when.
I don’t know how to move my vocal chords
Or how to make sounds vibrate
between the threads of air.
You’re what I scream for.
Ragged, reaching out to nothingness,
A single bulb hung far beneath the clouds,
Too faint to pass as a galaxy star.
The threads are ripping,
Torn from clumsy grasp at hollow sound.
Instead, it’s violence
In purest audio form
A storm
I scream.