Even your bruises look like galaxies,
no matter how broken you see yourself to be, you'll always be fascinating to me.

She loves puzzles, the nitty-gritty details, and the distinct pieces. She has completed one after another, and another, and another. Yet even after she's done, the complete frame did not make her happy. She's still sad, unfulfilled, incomplete.

*Little did she know, the missing piece is not from the puzzle. The greatest riddle is still herself.

No matter heavy the world weighs,
I will carry it for you.

the ringing sound we hear
when everything was silent
became her music

the red spot we see
when everything was pitched black
became the only color she sees

she lived in a world
where nothingness
was everything that surrounded her

she lived in a way
we all called as dying

And like any other phenomena
They were curious about her
"How does she start? Where does she end?" "What is she made of?" "When does she fade?"
Wrote myths and tales about her
"On her edges, there are pots of gold." "And these pots of gold, they are guarded by trolls."

But they cannot figure her out
Like a rainbow on a rainy afternoon
before they even get to know her, she was gone

She makes everyone feel a whole spectrum of colors, too bad he's color blind.