On my way from DC to Manhattan, the sky an odd indigo.
Got some donuts from the local bakery, which I'm munching on.
Some girl sits next to me.
After a couple hours she dozed off, and I whisper to her:
"You might be stardust, but you're no nebula."
She can't see the window through my silhouette.
I hate that inky nothing, I hate that
shadow, I hate
that silhouette.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
On my way from DC to Manhattan, the sky an odd indigo.
Got some donuts from the local bakery, which I'm munching on.
Some girl sits next to me.
After a couple hours she dozed off, and I whisper to her:
"You might be stardust, but you're no nebula."
She can't see the window through my silhouette.
I hate that inky nothing, I hate that
shadow, I hate
that silhouette.
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