Mummy said I would be a star. Although now that I have grown up, those fantasies of being a star are no longer what I aim for.
Because I came across a supernova – the dictionary definition being that ‘a supernova is an event that occurs upon the death of certain types of stars.’
Do you know how many people wish to witness this demonic beauty, when the actuality is that stars are dying for the satisfaction of pleasuring our visions?
My talent will not be replaced with a shine, so that when I die you can add my name to the walk of fame, and find that my existence will be limited to the mere area of a marble star.
No, I will not wish to exist to embody a supernova, because yes beauty is a trait all young girls hope they have. But the day I realised that a girls beauty is not all we stand for, the main trait I searched for in myself was inspiration.
Growing up in a society full of girls who wish to shine, I have changed my mentality in so many ways. Understanding that my death will be memorable not because it filled the sky with a sight of pure elegance, but because every single word I had ever spoken will rise from the cemeteries I created inside the people I have inspired.
Those lines people clicked after will grow legs and walk from my ashes. My death will be more than what we call a supernova. My death will be a galaxy of all the poems I have ever written, all the poems I have ever spoken, even all the poems I threw away.
I am not a supernova. Mummy I will not be a star. I have already begun my mission to leave this world as an entire universe.