I scatter my own ashes onto the years old paint. The one kept in deepest part of cupboard. I'm ready to take out my somber brushes and add some color to my skin. I am not gonna try to rewrite my own scars, not gonna keep pretending of being someone that you wished I was. I'm untying my knots in my head that kept this insane ship afloat, scrapping stars across my heart. Maybe they will fight a way through for the light in there.
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