I've tried to explain him but the only thing that comes out is bits and pieces of broken thought.
Its like everysingleword ever made has not, does not, live up to what he is.
I can only explain him through metaphors and similes because nothing can come close to describing someone as magnificent as seeing the sunrise on the first day of summer.
His skin is made of stars and constellations that are constantly being formed.
His eyes are like the vastness of galaxies and space itself; and when I think I can looked away, there's always something more to see.
He is endless, infinite;
and I still have so much to learn about him.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
I've tried to explain him but the only thing that comes out is bits and pieces of broken thought.
Its like everysingleword ever made has not, does not, live up to what he is.
I can only explain him through metaphors and similes because nothing can come close to describing someone as magnificent as seeing the sunrise on the first day of summer.
His skin is made of stars and constellations that are constantly being formed.
His eyes are like the vastness of galaxies and space itself; and when I think I can looked away, there's always something more to see.
He is endless, infinite;
and I still have so much to learn about him.
I rewrote an old poem.
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