In another land, I could’ve been soft;
I could’ve braided flowers in my hair
and sung lullabies at dusk.
In another land,
I could’ve been mellow,
sweet like a first kiss
and loved by the sun,
blushing from his touch.

Here’s to the girl I could’ve been;
here’s to the nights I wish I were her.

Let the wine spill over the mud,
let us pretend it isn’t blood,
let us pretend we haven’t swallowed the poison
that made our insides rot with desire
for the sky,
perhaps just to see how low we can fall.

In this land I am courageous,
covered in star dust that makes my eyes water.
In this land I hold the bitterness inside,
until it’s boiling.

Let me die a legend,
let me die lost in the land that made me who I am.

I could’ve been soft.
Instead, I am rage.