There's a little something there,
About the smell of an old paper.
And the ink on it, that seems stained fresh,
The faded drop of tea, that's been there for a while.
A pair of blankets, the perfect pair.
And the perfect cup of hot chocolate, a cozy chair.
Sitting by the windows to see,
The raindrops diving to the Earth.
A bit of pixie dust with fairy lights,
Colored hair and polaroids.
Sweatshirts on a breezy autumn day,
And headphones hanging down a mattress.
A sense of relief,
Euphoria enthralling me.
The little things that bring comfort,
The imperfections that couldn't be more perfect.
The lightning that warns of the sounds ahead,
The sky that takes a picture when it cries.
Butterflies that flutter past,
Somehow return to my stomach in time.
The crickets that sing their lullaby,
In the moments before a flutter of eyes.
The childish, small mistakes that are made,
At a time when no one is awake.
Letters in their sweetest form,
Arms around me, for no reason apparent, that calm.
It's the memory of little things,
Imperfections, that make life so perfect.
~LonelyComets
11.06.18
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Double update cuz I was feeling guilty XD
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YOU ARE READING
The Falling Stars
Poetry"For every tear that fell from her eyes// A bright star came falling from the sky" Just poems.... uhhh... yeah :) Poems that basically pop up in my head at like 3am ... and are formulated over an hour or two. That ... or it was inspired by a dream :...
