Written by Akshita Singh
I have locked my actual self,
In the realms of the night sky;
Upon the distant stars,
Burning’ bright through the coal clouds,
Distant yet scintillating,
Fairy dust in my eyes, at times,
Sparking up my darkest nights.
Sometimes they fall like angels,
Burn into my skin and scar;
Beautifully macabre in their form,
Marking their presence, honouring their existence;
But I’m glad they miss my day’s sun,
Too bright to hide;
For if my embers fell into the deceptive heat,
Everyone would know it is a lie.
Text © Akshita Singh
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