*Eventhough you know
every polaroid
picturesque infinity,
and every broken strand of
every melancholic
outpouring memory,
buried deep beaneath
the debris of the moon
and sprinkled with star dust
within my soul.
You can’t seem to understand
the basicity of my humanity.
And how much
you
quietly mean to me.*
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
*Eventhough you know
every polaroid
picturesque infinity,
and every broken strand of
every melancholic
outpouring memory,
buried deep beaneath
the debris of the moon
and sprinkled with star dust
within my soul.
You can’t seem to understand
the basicity of my humanity.
And how much
you
quietly mean to me.*
