If I were to write a prayer for myself, I’d ask for colours. I’d ask to shatter the monotony I often grow restless of,
I’d ask for an identity I wouldn’t ever want to morph,
I’d ask for hope in my soul, in my veins and arteries,
I’d ask for guts. Guts that push me to challenge all barriers and boundaries,
I’d ask for strength to hold myself together when I fall apart. I’d ask for sunshine from the stars,
For light in the dark, for beauty in my scars,
I’d ask for happiness in my own skin,
I’d ask for freedom, from chagrin.