Dusk, auburn, misty.

Its pretty but not of my liking. 

My eyes, caramel for years are now descending back to their original color.

This mist,

I've known this smell forever. 

Everytime I've lost something it has rained, 

when my tears hit the dirt on my face, 

I've smelt it. 

You say I'm irrational, that maybe it's not dark yet, 

but I can see the color leaving my eyes.

Maybe I've lost it, with my skin slightly burnt. 

And maybe it's time I should embrace my darkness, the moon, the chocolate aura of my eyes as well.

Afterall you can't hold on to light for life.

_

Riya Gupta is a high schooler and she loves to write. She writes when she is happy, sad, moody, angry, depressed or rather in every aspect of her life, because writing is the only way she heals from the damages caused to her by the stereotypes and unrealistic goals set by our society. Because she is unique, and so are you.