everyone obsesses over the moon. how beautiful it is, how magical, but for me, its the stars. the pigmented yellow sheet that covers the sky, tucking it in for the night. shes there, watching over in the darkest of nights. creating light wherever she is. it was her, my love. the stars is what makes the beauty of the pitched sky. they bring joy to the nyctophiliacs, making their day no matter how bad it was. theyre iridescent. no matter how hard you try, you cant look away.
YOU ARE READING
i cant stop thinking of you.
Poetrya series of poems dedicated to her ||not finished||
