Stop hiding me,
I'm not a sickness
like they want you to believe,
stars just stare
at pearls that runs
down your face,
while I sing you silence
at night,
offer you my shadow,
when Sun is too high
melting your cold mask,
I kiss your skin
to gray so numb,
and in return,
you romanticize
every time we had,
by painting rainbows
with letters and lines
with rhymes and metaphors
after every storm
I conjure.
I am pain,
depression
and sorrow,
and I love
how we defy
our destiny
with just words.
ariachez | march182018
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