It is times when we are ripped away by facts,
That we hate this illusory dream,
Of tangled hair with kissing fingers,
Tantruming under lovers seams.
Oh to touch such dark hair,
To line my skull with such thoughts,
And decorate a house unkempt,
Destroy the cobwebs and chaos.
I am but a single placement in the sky,
A blip of light etched to the back drop of night,
Attracting, making a binary star,
Kissing into cold airs space finding his broken piece of heart.
I wrote this coming back from a girls house, very early in the morning.
I told her i made her a star and i had found it.
It hurts to leave town of the one you love.
