There was something about the stars
that shattered the sky; the moon,
full to bursting; and me, nearly
invisible in the fading light,
listening to the chorus of
crickets calling each other home.
Something about that song, those skies,
this world that was so very alive
even as I was so very dead.
They say we are filled with stardust
and the ocean, but all that has
done is leave me gasping
for oxygen, treading water,
pulling towards the symphony
of sirens singing me to my end.
I am so tired of living in this skin.
Something about the stars,
congregating in constellations;
the moon, floating in a sea of
satellites; the crickets, an
endless ensemble of harmony.
Something about this world
that was so very crowded
even as I was so very lonely.
By Ang Shuang
Ang Shuang is a 21 year old dreamer from Singapore. She writes a lot about love.