Saturday, 5 March 2016

the language of emptiness

in every language
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’m sorry.
i really tried to stay good –
but I still flinch away from that light.

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