It was after the sunset that my eyes peeled opened

to see the brilliant colors that were splattered beautifully

against the canvas that was me.

It was after the sunset that my fingers could feel and touch,

so my heartbeat was more than just a sound that quickened

at the thought of love, but my very own existence in my fingertips.

It was after the sunset that I let my words bite and yell,

so I could be heard and understood, so that my words

would not carry the weight of the delicate feathers that lay

forgotten on his bedroom floor.

It was after the sunset that I stumbled upon a treasure

so divine that I mistook it for the imposter that I thought lived in my skin.

It was after the sunset that I realized I am the sun

And not the darkness that follows.