(Dys)morphia

The sun never shines 

on this side of the spectrumOur celestial bodies resting,in its dark reflection,only illumination are the stars.  The Stars,each burning gas that once fed our essencebefore its divine formation,casting out the hideous during the chrysalis.Former beacons now lying in dark matterfestering in each spacedeepening ourselves within its presence. Our souls sacrificed.Our celestial bodies are no longer astralspace has consumed our aestheticvibrant to pasteltransparent now opaque

This poem is about: 
Me

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