Like the moon, my scars are out there in dark,
the secrets whispering to the rocks in the dent,
until you— the sun, chose to shine bright on me
because you didn't want people to turn a blind eye to me
like they did to you.

you filled me with the warmth that only a poet in the coldest of dire nights could feel,
you made my blemishes prominent enough for a heartbroken poet to kill,
you made me the heroine, you made the villain,
you gave me the light that made me the centre of any masterpiece.

but like a broken compass, the more I take your light as the lead, the more lost I am,
we may share the same starry night
you'll still be the lone sunflower in the dead orchard
and I'll be a weed.

We'll never be seen together in someone's eyes.