
I wish I could paint my skin with sunset hues
So I could look bewitching even in this darkness,
But these monstrous scrapes and scars, and lesions,
Embellish my sky.
Some tried to cover it up with lies and left even without a goodbye,
And in the canvas remains the smudges of those
Who tried to repaint it but fled with exhaustion,
Perhaps of cowardice.
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