Deep darkness just like the night sky. Swirling indigo, pricks of light, peeking out from somewhere deep inside.
There isn’t room for clouds because the spaces are taken up by doubts. No shady forms or ill intent, inside these skies there’s only room for truths. Pry out and leave the words I never meant.
The cosmos are building constellations inside my chest. Galaxies are forming and bursting at the seams. I’m more than I’ve ever been, I’m more than anyone could conceive.
I’m writing with the words that are more than just breaths. With curls and sparks that can eat up souls, spit them out and make them wish they were partially whole.
I am the muse, I own the night, devouring melodies, creating symphonies, forcing the ebb and the flow.
I am more whole than I think I’ve ever known.