Movie about the Sea

I'm heading cold into
a hollow under the sky.
Day has darkened
and night has met her,
pale, inflamed.

I talk like a man,
cold. Terse
admit nothing,
only laugh and
swing my fists.

The doors don't close
and windows leak, cold.
The vault of sleep
is two thousand miles on
the other side of torn space.

Waiting brings me deeper
into the storm
Cold, fish-like,
not a place for mammals.
Only the wild fish are home.