I am an orb of unlimited and countless galaxies sewed together, stars to planets to moons with celestial rocks like ballerina dresses.
I am a mountain with so many caves that people wander through, though those caves are wounds.
I’m a poem, my verses are my body, and my contradicting conflicts are my heart and brain.
I am tired of trying to describe myself because no matter how hard I preach, the sunflowers I fantasise at night still will not match those words I am trying to exhale.
My voice box is tired of endlessly attempting to form words because my brain cannot fit appropriate matching ones for you to comprehend or let your soul intake.
I know that my golden core will rust in front of you before I start making sense. I know that you will not bear the question marks engraved on my presence like a permanent stamp following the footsteps of my shadows, I carry uncertainty to the hearts of whoever I visit.
I knew that you would leave me before this sunrise, but I still chose to dance with you when you asked me to, at sunset.
I am sorry.