Because every night
I stare at the glittering sky
constantly asking the moon and stars
about the possibility of us

And if the stars could speak
they would probably told me
to stop asking the same question
over and over again

And maybe, the moon
is also bored of watching me swoon,
me being a hopeless romantic,
delusional like a lunatic

Dream catchers on my window
Doodles of your name under my pillow
The same wish on every shooting star
I am willing, no matter how far

I could stay like this forever
Because illusions are way better
Better than the reality
That there will never be a possibility
Of you and me