#maps
It was drawn in a hand that didn’t quite trust itself,
lines wavering as if the cartographer
kept glancing over their shoulder.
No compass rose.
No legend.
Only a thin path curling inward,
as though the map were trying to remember
a place that never agreed to exist.
Some say it leads to a city made of glass,
where every street reflects a different version of you.
Others insist it’s a shortcut through a dream
you once abandoned halfway through.
When I held it up to the light,
the ink shifted —
not fading, but rearranging,
as if the map were still deciding
what it wanted to reveal.
Whoever drew it wasn’t lost.
They were searching for something
that couldn’t be found on any real terrain,
something that required a place
that wasn’t a place at all.
And just before the paper settled,
a faint outline appeared at the edge of the path —
a doorway, or a warning,
or perhaps a memory I hadn’t made yet.
I folded the map carefully,
and for a moment,
my hands smelled faintly
of a place I had never been.
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 2:57 PM UTC
I shaped my world with firm design,
Seas were blue by choice, not tide.
Borders fell like whispers in wind,
Heaven welcomed whom I assigned.
The fire kept what I denied,
Justice tired, my own voice replied.
Law was written with a steel hand,
Surplus weighed the heart of man.
Dec 27, 2025
Dec 27, 2025 at 12:05 AM UTC
I seen a programme on Irish TV once, the National Museum in Dublin has lots of gold bracelets and brooches that the ancient Irish used to wear
They were wondering where they got the gold from to make these trinkets
Apparently there was only three places in Ireland that had gold in them
The Wicklow mountains just south of Dublin city, in the West around the mountain of Croagh Patrick in County Mayo
And up North in the Sperrin mountains in County Tyrone
I read somewhere that gold is usually found amid veins of quartz rock
So I thought if we got a geology map and we found where that rock predominates
Then if we found a stream or river that ran through it
Then that'd be...yea! That'd be 'Gold River'
We'd be digging big chunks of gold off the river bed
I was telling my niece this story and that we should go up the Wicklow mountains some day, bring some pans with us and do some prospecting
But she said what if the farmer or owner of the land seen us
It's his land so the Gold would belong to him
I told her Well we could pretend we were tourists...yea! we were Frenchies, we could say something like
"We have come... come from far across the foam... we come to find the 'little people' the leprachaun men... and the great old Irish heroes of yore
How you say in the Irish 'The cabbage is good no!'.
Nov 26, 2025
Nov 26, 2025 at 2:48 PM UTC
Asia was a word that came one Summer as a child
While looking at a huge map of the World spread out in all these amazing colours
And then
Then someone said ...someone said the word Asia... Asia
Was like an enchantment, a magic spell...Asia !
And there was a book of flags
Again so many wonderful colours
And all these magical sounding names
Arabia, Morocco, Syria, Egypt.....
You'd go off to sleep with lovely turquoise blues and crescent moons dancing around in your head
And the smell of the lilacs in the vase in the window
The world it was so magical, it was so enchanting.
And in our books there were stories of Japan and Genghis Khan... of the Picts in Scotland... and the Romans
And the Great Wall of China...
2
Asia was a girl that came smiling one Summer long ago
Out of a book with pictures
A Persian princess, she came in a caravan from the East
Smiling and giggling to herself
Like a mischievous little kitten
In the mirror of her face I saw my own
"My world is fun", she seemed to be saying, "and I want you to come, come and be my Prince, my Prince Charming"
She seemed to be reaching out to me as if for to dance
And with her lovely rosy lips that wanted to kiss mine.
3
Asia was a light wind that blew through empty Summer rooms
With the sunbeams coming in through the white lace curtains
And a lonely kid just wandering there
A small boy perplexed.... not knowing
In a world that said it knew
Told to be quiet, that you were small...that you were stupid
Struggling between the beauty and the ugliness of it all.
Aug 5, 2024
Aug 5, 2024 at 5:52 PM UTC
She buys a torn and faded map
All the continents are misshapen
The rivers smudged.Her faith is
inexhaustible. So here I am,
the bridge she will never cross.
The cataratic mapmaker rubbing his
eyes knowing only one route.
I stand on the other side
watch her put on a mask
so we will know exactly
how she feels, watch
her turn away
with map in hand
watch her
as she gets
smaller
and smaller.
I am on the otherside,
sitting on a chair,
in an empty room
in an abandoned house,
the windows have been boarded shut.
With my finger I erase
the ring of water
left behind by her glass.
It is true that I loved
her. I am gaunt
and my ribs are showing.
copyright c.a. leibow 2007
Published in Rat Fink Review
Apr 23, 2024
Apr 23, 2024 at 3:12 PM UTC
There are no real maps
There are none that are true
You lay the sphere of our bellies down flat
And you face a conundrum of view
So why do we learn they are certain
And why don’t we follow or nose
And how did the sailors of ancient
Find their ways to and back home
Mind map, Google maps, star map
Infinite things trapped in lines
Like drawing a circle round an ant
A taunt from wasted time
Mar 10, 2022
Mar 10, 2022 at 12:21 AM UTC
It has thorns like roses
and solemn hues
the pinpricks from picking
these flowers have left maps on my hands
that I read when I am lost in the woods
by my childhood dreams
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC
It's been awhile since I'm in the road,
A big black suitcase taken with myself,
I've tried to fit and carry my whole home,
But home's a feeling and a place.
And all the maps and changing routes,
Those random people I have met
Have brought no answers and no clues
To where I do belong and where I'm at.
Jul 16, 2021
Jul 16, 2021 at 7:59 PM UTC
There is much about you to remember
Am terrified I might forget
To me appears you already have
Realization that makes me upset
Nothing to stop image from fading
From brain a bit more each day
Picture your face so clearly now
Know time will steal it away
Writing all our memories
The best way to ensure
In some way I'll preserve you forever
The perfect specimens we were
You do not care
Freeze precious snapshots
Because to you they did not matter
If love was a delicate vase
You would purposefully topple it simply to see shatter
Sit down to rest tired feet
Exhausted from leading around in laps
Do not know you're giving me the runaround
You set fire to all the maps
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC
"How did you know where to find me?" She whispered, her voice
cracking under her tears.
"I followed the maps you left in my heart, and I let my feet carry me to you, because I belong to you the way the stars belong in the sky." He said, holding her.
She nodded and more tears rolled off her chin.
"My darling, our stars, the very stars inside of us, go together like the sun and the moon. And I want nothing more than to be by your side, always."
In this moment, she knew she could never again wander away from his embrace.
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 12:14 AM UTC
I see maps
And roadways
In everything.
In the scars
And all the marks
Upon my skin.
In the veins on my arms,
In the lines on my palms,
And in my eyes
When I stare into a mirror.
But these paths,
Where do they all lead?
Where is it
I am meant to go?
Where is it
I am meant to be?
Dec 22, 2020
Dec 22, 2020 at 3:05 AM UTC
𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠?
𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚙𝚜
𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗
𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠
𝚠𝚑ich 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑ich 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝.
𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍
𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜
𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠
𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜.
𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚙𝚜
𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗
𝚜𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜
𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎
𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚝,
𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠
𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎.
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 8:12 PM UTC
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
standing pota the furthest star
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀six snoitcerid to tilt your heading
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a fael breaks free and takes flight
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
love sah no bearing
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it swolb without a choice
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ maps. evisulcnocni.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
oh erus they will tell you cause and effect and
all taht...
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but i like to think that some things happen
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀because (yeht) happen
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
}advice for the soul that is lost
in the carnage of summer memories
melting the years together{
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 7:47 PM UTC
We get on the ride
without any maps
or compass to guide us,
we create our own ways
and start the journey.
It could be dangerous,
but I feel safe
sitting beside you
as you take the wheel
and bring us
to somewhere new.
We will watch
every sunrise and sunset
while I rest my head
on your shoulder
and be your permanent passenger.
I want to see
the world with you,
we can go places
that we have never been,
seeing seven wonders,
exploring exotic and historical cities,
capturing priceless moments.
After the long trip,
I will always come back
to your arms,
my comfort place
and waking up
to your face,
my favourite morning view.
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 6:40 AM UTC
We are all treading water
Trying to keep our heads above the waves
Same game
Different methods of beating bosses in every victorious match
Dealing with maps encountered everywhere progressed in this world
No matter how complicated the terrain or what difficulty the opposition is set to
Just multiple devils disguised as characters to test character and integrity
In the digital world if mistakes are made get to retry levels until you get it right
If you die
That death does not equal a permanent zap out of existence but instead is more like a breif catnap
Then you are magically healed and respawned like a phoenix rising from the ash and ruin
The same miracle does not work like that in reality
When our time comes we are banished from this living hell we have named Earth to reside in a perpetual pitch-black exile
There is no consolation prize
Bonus round
Final scoring or tallying of points to alter the outcome of events
The only resemblance the end of a human beings life has to a video game is the "sudden death" part
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 2:10 AM UTC
Evening darkens upon the moors,
Forgiveness—a hairless thing
skirting the headlamps, fugitive.
Why have we come,
traversing the long miles
and extremities of solitude,
worriedly crisscrossing the wrong maps
with directions
obtained from passing strangers?
Why do we sit,
frantically retracing
love’s long-forgotten signal points
with cramping, ink-stained fingers?
Why the preemptive frowns,
the litigious silences,
when only yesterday we watched
as, out of an autumn sky this vast,
over an orchard or an onion field,
wild Vs of distressed geese
sped across the moon’s face,
the sound of their panicked wings
like our alarmed hearts
pounding in unison?
My family did get lost in an English moor on a dark moonless night. It happened when I was a boy. My mother was driving and seemed to have no idea where we were, or which direction to head. I wondered if we would ever find civilization again. It was a very spooky experience that I drew on for my poem. Keywords/Tags: England, Devon, moor, car, headlamps, headlights, directions, maps, points, routes, strangers, signals, orchard, field, geese, hearts, relationships, parting, separation, divorce, loneliness, alienation, free verse
Feb 27, 2020
Feb 27, 2020 at 2:10 AM UTC
dust pirouettes before the eyes of the sun,
sinking softly towards an ocean of its own.
heat’s forceful palms press against the sand,
disturbing the air’s careful disposition.
but he is not watching the rich colours melt overhead.
he pays no attention to the ripeness of the horizon.
he watches her,
a grace so light in her bones it feels strange to compare
to the weight sinking in his throat.
he tells her of the winds,
the way they re-carve a desert,
its dunes reborn.
he tells her of the aajej and the harmattan and how
it rolls and rolls,
producing showers so thick with sand
they were once mistaken for blood.
at night his fingers trace,
a vague map he once had memorised,
against the plains of her skin.
her veins cutting through her wrists like rivers,
each blemish a town unvisited,
and the hollow between her collarbones,
an oasis still unnamed.
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 5:31 PM UTC
Then
We were always keen on space talk
We discussed what stars meant for us
I know you didn’t believe but
We wished on falling stars
We planned on where we would go together when we finally could
Today
I can’t remember the constellations
that I used to trace on your back
I had maps and shortcuts to all fissures and valleys
I really knew you inside and out
The black hole that the many conversations created
took everything that I had had in my capsule
One day someone will find it and dig it out
BUT REALLY
It could only be you again.
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 7:26 AM UTC
Sometimes it doesn't feel like me
What I'm living in is foreign
What I want versus what I need
In a way it feels distorted
I was use to deprivation
In a way it was my pride
I didn't need or wanted as much
Even now I still don't mind
Overwhelmed with newfound freedom
I am free. Still, I am lost
I'm no longer trapped or controlled
But that was all I was ever taught
I was raised by maps and manuals
Now you give me a pen to write my own
Opening various paths around me
Paralyzed in anxiety to take even one alone
If recovery meant burning all of my maps
And rewriting all of my manuals
Letting go of strict rules and superior words
To be mortal than something mechanical
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 12:28 PM UTC
Someday we will get up from this mess
of stirred blankets and soiled laundry
living on piles of boxes and untouched documents
old unworn garments hanging on the curtain rod
The stench of manure and the old man’s unkept
bags carried over last night’s binge and false beliefs
with evidence of old computer notes
to pretend he’s making money
will someday be a memory
Baking tools and sundresses
will finally make it on today’s to do lists
black circles will not be hidden because
we were not made to be pulled apart like dolls
When the time comes
birds and the sound of leaves falling,
the loud bang of the overripe fruit atop
our heads echoing through the roof
like the sound of nature telling us
We are not frail for walking
on steel bridges bare foot
waiting for rain to fall
like dancing
Strongly the grip of the earth
and winds churning about this house
led us to these sights we cannot ignore
to leave this place
to start new maps with bare hands
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 2:30 PM UTC
Enthusiast is a bit of an understatement,
My friend Claire could tell you that;
As we hiked from the West coast to the East coast of Scotland
At night she read "normal things" - while I read maps.
Of course I needed to be sure of the route,
But after 25 miles of walking that wasnt all-
I'd spend at least 3 hours staring and staring
The roads, the woods, the rivers, hostels, churches, pubs and schools....
In fact night after night I spent,
So long engrossed,
That after five nights,
I had one of the strangest dreams ever experienced.
I was "in" an OS map -
Walking a yellow road, past big red triangles,
Counting contours,
And heading straight for the strangest of all -
Just across the red road, the enormous half filled pint glass
- the public house of course!
Surreal dream that was,
But also great fun,
I was in an OS map...
One without people - I was the only one
I did ease up on the map reading after,
Thought I might start hallucinating otherwise,
Claire already thought I was slightly mad,
If I told her we needed to shelter from the rain in the giant pint glass - well, as I said, she already knew I was mad!
But my obsession is not limited to OS maps,
Oh no, its the entire World Atlas;
Continents, Countries, Oceans and territories,
Nothing escapes my attention in the World Atlas.
I have so so many maps,
Because people keep changing things,
From the names of Countries and places
To minor details...bridges...silly little things.
I have a map that says USSR,
The Soviet Union so large,
Now I have another with Russia,
Belarus, Estonia, Ukraine, and others that re-emerged.
Even isolated places like Greenland
People cant make up their mind,
Is it Nuuk or Godthaab?
They are both still there to confuse the mind.
I had a map with Zaire,
Once the biggest country in Africa,
Its now the Democratic Republic of the Congo,
Needed to amend my map of Africa.
Ok, all maps up to date;
Just when I can rest my map brain...
Sudan is then split in two!!
Get out the map Emma - quick - draw a line!!
I dont know what I think would happen
If my maps were not up to date;
But I just cant take the risk,.
I have to change them before its too late.
Most recent of course was Swaziland,
How? Why? When?!
Its ok, i've read about it now,
And I understand...let me get my pen.
But Swaziland is so tiny
Now I need to write eSwatini (!)
My map is now such a mess
Time for a new one? No not yet - Swaziland has not yet changed like the rest!
I have to wait for cartographers
To catch up and make all the changes,
Or otherwise i'll only trust my own map
The one with scribbles all over the pages.
Its not just on a Country scale
Such changes do confuse us,
For even in South Africa alone -
New names replaces the oldies.
Port Elizabeth,
Now Nelson Mandela Bay;
I think its wonderful,
But its not what my map says!
Umtata became Mthata;
Another very welcome change,
But that one letter is on my mind...
Quick - cross out the "u"...in case we go insane!
Nothing is more messed up in my guide books,
Which consist almost exclusively of maps
Than the city of Durban....
Street names have changed...but "not quite yet"
I picked up a local map,
And not shown in the one I carried
- Its still in process of "changing",
So two names there are for almost every road!
Pretoria became Tshwane,
Again I agree with the name change,
But by now the maps in my book
Make so little sense - it could be mistaken for Adelaide!
I wont go into Rhodesia,
There have been so many changes across Africa,
But if they were before I was born,
It somehow doesnt seem so much to matter...
I only get frustrated with
Things that I know,
Before 1980 -
I had no maps to know.
I'd be talking about the Transkei, the Ciskei,
The Orange Free State and all,
More recent but left in the past -
I have none of those on my walls.
I focus more on Africa,
as most will know i'm a bit obsessed,
Being from a British Island on the African Plate,
...with Ascension drifting away with America...albeit very slow.
The Mid Atlantic Ridge runs between them,
From Iceland to the South Pole,
Dividing the Continental plates,
St Helena and Ascension came out of a hole...
My mind drifts a little to Asia,
Although I dont know it as well,
But...is it Burma or Myanmar now?
And is Palestine shrinking still?
Islands cause much fascination,
Being an Islander myself,
But mine is just the tip of a volcano,
The map doesnt show anything else.
As far as Islands go - the Atlantic is easy,
Try staring at the Pacific,
Such a vast and empty ocean,
Hides many secrets...more than the Atlantic.
You may think St Helena isolated,
But only till your eyes enter the Pacific,
It might be a huge mostly empty ocean,
But the vast Island chains are prolific.
There are fracture zone after fracture zone,
Creating Island chains and coral atolls;
From the Coral sea of Australia,
To the Galapagos of South America.
There's Polynesia, there's Melanesia,
Micronesia too;
And within these - hundreds of Islands...
And yes - I've tried to count them too..
We look for other British Islands,
Pitcairn - the most isolated of all;
And what a sorry story to tell..
About 60 people and half of them in jail...
Sometimes im desperately trying to find an Island
To replace my British non-British Island;
Those who think im mad loving South Africa-
Wont even begin to understand.
But this poem is not about emotion,
So i'll mention that no more,
Its more about Geography
- too many Islands to explore.
Staring at the Pacific
Can occupy at least three sleepless nights,
Remembering the names of the islands -
Is a much more difficult plight.
Most heart breaking about this Ocean,
Is the Islands being lost;
Populations having to leave,
As sea levels rise and coral islands are lost...
I think I have found my location,
or a few i'd give a try,
On a large map they simply appear as "bumps"
Surrounded by bigger Islands, and the ocean wide
Sleepless nights have drawn me to Tokelau;
A tiny territory of New Zealand;
Three beautiful coral atolls...
But oh so far from New Zealand.
Less than one thousand people,
Yet with their own language,
The closest Island is Samoa,
That boat journey for me would be a privilege...
The Island has 100% clean energy,
With so few people to sustain,
It's setting an example for the World,
Tokelau looks like "paradise" on my map....if I had to give it a new name...
Indigenous people full of colour,
Flowers round their necks and some clothes a recent thing,
They even have their own musical culture,
Its only mass worry is rising tides - and the flat atolls eventually submerging....
There is another island I look at,
With its tribal peoples far more "untouched",
It really is like a land time forgot,
Although it does have an airport..
It is the Island of "Mog-Mog"...
Yes...I didnt make that up..
It really does exist,
Although I admit it took me years to discover on my map...
I wont mention where it is,
I dont want to give it away;
My maps are full of secrets,
And that is how some should stay.
You can visit from Tahiti,
Which is more like France than its surrounds;
But Mog-Mog is a totally different world,
Dont be fooled by Tahiti - Mog-Mog is part of the "untouched surrounds"
I could talk about these Islands forever,
As even I have not discovered them all,
But I have to finish with the Indian Ocean,
The Chagos Islands are British afterall...
What happened to the Chagossians
was a cruel sin of humankind,
Not just ST Helena suffers at the hands of the British
- Chagossians were forced to leave their Isle behind...
To make way for an American Air base,
Ascension - how familiar does that sound?!
The story of the Chagossian tragedy
Must touch every Islander to be found...
The Chagossians also inspire us however,
For fifty years on they are still fighting,
Fighting to return to their homeland,
Now a heavily guarded secret is their homeland...
My people however dont seem to care,
And that does make me sad;
This is another British Island
Not in the Atlantic, or Caribbean - but that does not make it bad...
The powers at be are so evil
That even after the fifty year lease was up..
The British just signed yet another...
As for the Islanders - they just want forgot...
I support the Chagossian people,
In their desperate fight to go home,
Even after deportation-
Their British Citizenship rights are next to none...
I am not proud of my motherland either,
And im not the only one;
I dont consider myself even British,
I dont "worship" my motherland like some...
I see what is really happening,
In St Helena and other "Crown Territories",
Just take a moment to look at them all....
and let me know if you find any that are totally "free"...
....oppression comes in many forms....
........................Nomkhumbulwa...
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 8:50 PM UTC
to all the worlds inside of me I've tried to hide
for the sake of infatuation
boys like simplicity
so simple I will be
but who am I without my thoughts
who am I without metaphors for love
you want to trace the maps of my skin
without hearing of the places I've been
I refuse to soften myself
for your own indulgement
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 7:27 PM UTC
Trace these lines with your fingers and close your eyes,
and feel this map that'll lead you to treasures deeply hidden inside.
A challenging trek but nevertheless, valleys are worth the journeys through, and mountains are worth the climb
to find me patiently waiting here at the seat of my soul, I'll know that you've traveled far and wide.
If you make it here I know you've been sent by the heavenly divine
spirit that resides inside of you, and inside of I.
Remember the soul contract we signed at the beginning of time,
and lets move these constellations out the way until we feel our stars align.
Yeah, we're still living our lives but just know that I'll be waiting, until you find me here inside.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 2:36 PM UTC