they call us empty.
everything we touch isn’t dark enough.
but how could they know
the feeling of light
in all the unbearable places ?
we are nothing but scars,
yet there are shapes of dreams and stars.
once, i loved.
once, i didn’t have all these nebulas inside of me –
all that is bruised and blackened
curled up like the night sky.
entire cities stained and left in ruins.
i really tried to stay good –
but I still flinch away from that light.