my favourite time to be awake is 12:11, an hour after you've made a wish; a mug of lukewarm honeyed tea in your hand that you made hours ago but forgot about because you didn't bother to turn the lights on; everything is kind of blurry because you've taken off your glasses; the pinpricks of light from street lamps in the distance and the glow of a charger are the only light sources; when you try to take a picture of the dark and blurry view outside your open window, your phone can't quite capture it; it just looks black with a few spots of light; so it's like you have your own moment; stood in front of your window with a cup of lukewarm honeyed tea in your hand, looking at the pinpricks of light from street lamps in the distance that no one else can see in the same way, that you can't even capture.
YOU ARE READING
broodings
Poetryin which a teenage girl writes about girls, goddesses and other shit. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 2016
