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written by: Vanshika Dhyani



Shoot a bullet into me
Puncture my soul
I will not cry for the moon
Lure me to my own destruction
But you’ll never win.
The falling sky will panic

I will paint the graveyard pink
It’s time for a resurrection
The church is the colour of pride
The white dove choked on plastic
And the cannon ball banned men
Satan became our saviour

Blame me for my bleak yearning
But how can i fathom into this universe?
His thoughts were stars of a constellation
Mine just bled plain blue
It isn’t our poetry that makes us beautiful
It is our despair

Vanshika Dhyani

Vanshika Dhyani

I'm a seventeen year old poet from India.
You don't have to like my poetry, I don't write it for you.
I was born with glitter in my veins so I slit them apart.
Vanshika Dhyani

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