you write a poem about how beautiful the moon is and here i am secretly tell the moon that you're the most beautiful.

i may not will be the one who listen to your mixtape everyday but i do know one song that you always serenade near the windowsill, which i found it strangely funny.

all up in my head,
5 minutes disappear within a blink.

you were a personal poet to me until all these pages no longer interesting cause you took every words away with you, nothing left here.