Do you remember?

Do you remember the colors,
Not the soft ones—the feral, electric blues,
The reds like wounds that never heal,
And the silver streaks of nights we tore open
Just to see if the stars would bleed?
We didn’t paint; we spilled ourselves,
Letting every shade burn and blur,
The canvas, our battle.

Do you remember our moonlit walks,
Where the ground cut us open,
But we danced anyway, barefoot on broken glass?
Your breath tasted of ash, mine of salt,
But we swallowed the pain,
Craving the burn, the spark that kept us alive.
We walked until the dawn found us raw,
Bruised, but untouchable.

Do you remember how love never whispered,
But screamed through the cracks in our skin?
It wasn’t soft; it was a knife pressed to the bone,
And we dared it to go deeper.
We wore our hearts like jagged glass,
Cutting anything that came too close.
Even when it shattered, we grinned,
Bleeding but laughing, defiant.

Do you remember?
We didn’t fill silence with words;
We set it on fire.
We roared, we raged,
And in the spaces between, we trembled,
Not from fear, but from the force of holding everything at once.
Now, even with all the fractures, the scars,
We remain—
Not unbroken, but unbreakable,
The world bent to us,
And we dared it to try again.