Captain's Log

Captain's Log: Entry #247

Today marks the 285th consecutive day I've been stranded from my ship.
Just another lonely astronaut,
floating in the icy vacuum of space,
alone.
If you're wondering about the discrepancy between my logs and days spent adrift in the final frontier,
it's because I just don't pay attention to myself;
my spacesuit has holes,
the visor is covered in water,
and,
salt,
residue,
and I haven't examined the motor that powers the air tanks in ages -
it seems I take some masochistic pleasure in the lack of oxygen I feel whenever I look at her:
the star, of course.
The sky never changes position in space, you know.
And I know what you're thinking.
You're thinking:
"Dude, you're dying. Why are you hung-up on a star?"
But that's like asking an artist why they've never done a self-portrait;
I am a small man,
in a small suit,
and she is a small star,
in a small galaxy,
but the universe is not big enough for the both of us,
so I've given all of my space to her instead.

*edit: If it's not too much, could I also get feedback on the punctuation? I always mess it up.

Feedback: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/4mlgzn/wheat_beat_knees/d3wgu5o https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/4mljjd/mother_dearest_spoken_word/d3wgqvw