(Reader's note: 'zindagi' = 'life' in Hindi)

I have dreams about broken glass.
Well I don't know if it's shattered or broken
Do I pick up the pieces and count them in my palm?
Or maybe that's not such a good idea
It may anger the beings above
You see,
My skin and glass might be lovers undestined to love

Are things written in the stars?
And if so, do the clouds read every night?
Because that's a habit I should start doing
But instead i write songs i don't know how to sing

Do the stars also write melodies?
Teach me you sky gods
Teach me your patterns of consistency
Because right now the only thing consistent with me
Is my subconscious broken glass imagery

Should I get it tattooed onto my wrist?
I could carve its words of origin into my fist,
If i wanted to
But sometimes a canvas is best left unbruised
Like the skin on my body that's put up with my youthful ruse
Dear broken glass, I am currently using you as my muse
I speak to the sky's jewels
Who knows if they listen?
But I spill out my secrets to them
Dear sky jewels,
My youth has been abused.

Dear stars,
I don't believe I have the guts to call someone my 'zindagi'
My mind and body cannot afford to lose countless parts of me
I cannot disintegrate into the planets
Do not misinterpret me, for I do not fear their solitude
I do not fear solitude
I cannot fear something that is written repeatedly for me

I have dreams about broken glass
And they stab my rhythmic knot
The glass, it melts in the bodies
Of people I do not recognise
Apparently that is a prediction of betrayal
Of prewritten, cremated deceit
The truth that lies in this claim is undetermined
So i pass my faith to my fellow mortals
Despite the risk of being deserted

But once again,
I do not fear abandonment leader of stars and crystals
It is impossible to fear the fires engraved into my initials
By the gods of the oceans above us

Dear Mr and Mrs Eclipse,
Do you ever lose your grip?
People gather to admire your beauty
Yet are oblivious to your abyss
Teach me your jagged symmetry
Is it some kind of affinity
Or do those sky jewels write your symphony?

Add some flare to the timpanis
Compose its percussion deliberately
For the orbit that you worship is me
Dominating your glass stage of fragility

Do the stars also write rhythms?
Teach me you sky gods
Teach me your patterns of consistency
Because right now the only thing consistent with me
Is my spitefully shattered art synchrony.

© StarrySummer