By Aanya Nigam
I swallow my tongue
Coated with champagne and rose thorns
Pricking shards into my throat as it bleeds.
My blood exposed to pain and insecurities,
I hold in my tears
As my red-veined eyes swell with hate.
My eyelashes glued together, laced with envy.
The sky was still blue here
But it sat in my gut like a fraud.
Caustic salt on my ashen lips,
Like every astringent grain was meant for me.
I wake up to crystals on my pillow...
The sun peeking through the blue tinted window,
Rising in its morning glory.
I inhale the lavender skies,
I let my hair down and I say to myself:
“You burn too bright for this world. You are made for better things - Trust the process.”
And my autumn heart blossoms with flowers again.
By Aanya Nigam
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