Skin

The veil of my heart

Is peeled off slowly.

In middle of day and dark

With bones and bodies.

The silver in my eyes,

Is crumbled to dust.

Blinded by the shine,

Drove by ephemeral lust.

No, I don't have real tears,

And I'm laced with fake bruise.

Have infinite fears,

And is everything, but truth.

By your slipping fingers,

My skin is stained.

While from love, they withers..

They turn blue with pain.

But as a woman, I've been told

To learn how to fight.

From the birth of my soul,

To the disruption of my pride.

So, my eyes wrap the galaxy

And the dust is brushed off.

Walking in the lightning,

My hands become my sword.

Because, my skin is not canvas

For scars and wounds;

But for stars and colours

And everything, I'll win from you.