Flipping through magazines
Of places she could only see in her dreams
Of models with clear skin, Sun kissed
Of breeze filled silk skirts and how they swished
Envious of those who dwelled under the sun
For the number of times she came out in daylight was none
Nyx could never go oUt into daylight
Perhaps that's why she was named after the night
For the sun left blisters on her skin
All over from head to shin
She didn't find comfort in the night's darkness
And yearned for the sun with wistfulness
She didn't kNow that the grass wasn't greener on the other side
Like a nightingale wishing for a peacock's feathers or wings of a kite
Nyx who yearned for the wrong things
And that tragically clipped her wings
For she did not know that the night was kind
And it had become something she hated with her whole mind
She did not know that the night would understand
Instead the night had Become something she could not stand
And she got lost in her fleeting tangerine dreams
Of having suntanned skin and her face on a large screen
How lonely she was in the hoUrs of darkness
During those nights within her she felt daRkness
For her skin was heliophobic but she was nyctophobic
Her skin was nyctophilic but she was heliophilic
During those nights she would yearn for a sun instead of a moon
For the moon disappeared so ofteN but she didn't know that the sun disappeared too
And eventually she drowned in her own darkness, an abyss within her when she wished for things she didn't need...
-the story of a girl with xeroderma pigmentosum
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Poetry[ poetry/short stories/collection ] ❝ you made the truth into what I lied, and I lied that I was beautiful ❞ . . . a collection of rainbows, theories, and dreams, of words faded around the edges with meanings that nothing could ever fade. a...
