Nikita Gill

you were made of the sky
do you remember that?

Before they told you
what you were supposed to be
Before they destroyed
your elegant wings.

Before they tricked you
and chained you to an idea
to a prison they made for you
branded you with a label, with pain

Tried to remold you
into something
easier for them
to understand.

But your blood
didn’t let you
forget, did it?

The taste of the sky,
The memories of flying
to the horizon just to kiss
the sun before he fell asleep.

Once Apollo himself loved you
so much, that he softened
the sun’s heat so it could
not melt your wings.

He is still waiting for you
to remember who you were
before they turned you
into something they understood.

Come, you have always known
what it would take
to eat those chains,
to fly free again.

Nothing about this
was ever going to be easy
Freedom was built
on backs and bones and blood.

Take the thing
that is owed to you.
Forge new wings
in the belly of betrayal.

Watch them quiver
as you rise again,
this time breathing fire
your spine made of fury.

Show them what happens
when they try to take the voice
from those born of the sky
Become your own battlecry.

- Nikita Gill, Freedom


This is the kind of hero you are: every time things have become so difficult you can barely breathe, you have clenched your jaw and pulled your way through. This is the kind of hero you are: you have saved yourself from drowning and waded your own body to the shore just in the nick of time. This is the kind of hero you are: every time someone has been cruel and beaten your heart to a bloody pulp, you have taken this broken thing and painstakingly brought it back to life. This is the kind of hero you are, you are your own knight in shining armour, you are a supernova.

- Nikita Gill, This Is The Kind Of Hero


You are a real thing in a world held together by thumbtacks and plastic people. You will struggle to be heard with your genuine birdsong voice amongst the drone of machines. This is why you need to learn to amplify yourself, my love. The world needs more like you and it desperately needs your tragic, beautiful, authentically human voice.

- Nikita Gill

This is your skin and you owe it to your body to be comfortable in it. This is your voice and you owe it to your truth to be strong and loud with it. This is your history and you owe it to your ancestors to fight and be proud of it. This is your soul. And you owe it to yourself to not let any human, any demons, any trauma desecrate the sanctity of it.

-Nikita Gill

This is how you swallow courage and spit out pain. You feel it, all the way to those sinews within you. You learn from it, when it crescendos through your blood. You allow it to end at its own pace like a tragic symphony does. Then you take what it has left behind, the lesson that is the courage and you use that movement, that bravery to spit out the heartache.

-Nikita Gill