Inside me lives a nebula, filled with all I that I was
all that I have lost and all I am becoming
it glows with the remnants of lost dreams
and the dust of old wounds
there are colours in me I never knew I carried
sorrow blooming violet, rage flickering crimson
silver threads of longing, golden embers of joy
memory has its own gravity
it tugs, drags, resurrects
tonight I feel myself collapsing again
into the shape you carved into me
the hollow that holds my wounds, my bruises
and all that I have lost
I confess these truths to no-one
but the darkness and the universe listen
with their quiet, ancient patience
as I whisper your name
resurrected from the depths of pain
but every time I break, the nebula brightens
close enough to see, close enough to touch
and the light shifts, twisting into new forms
new constellations of hope and fear
and I know that in time, I will collapse
becoming the next version of myself
not an ending, but another beginning
a star born from the ache
of everything I have survived
an until then I remain, inside my own radiance
a nebula in motion, forever forming
who I am destined to be
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 