Ignore the fibers,
scorched to ash
the fractured sky bleeds silent light,
where names dissolve like lost prayers,
and time is a body unbroken, yet hollow.

But under the ruins,
the same pulse reverberates
a seed splits open,
drenched in the same rain,
thirsting for a soil never touched.

We are the void’s breath,
woven in the skin of stars,
lost in the endless touch
of the same hands
that never let go.

Ever since I was little, I was a perfectionist.
It never took much to get an A.
My parents took pride in my grades.
And I never wanted to let them down.
Sounds great, right?
But I have nothing to get excited over
When I get an exceptional score
Because it wasn't a struggle
In the first place.
And when something does go wrong,
In school or in my life,
It feels like I'm drowning.