oh how the tables have turned.
how the city lights sparkle artificial stars from above,
and our dull skies empty and boring.
we have blanketed ourselves with temporary twinkles,
while the night holds us lingered,
what is to look up?
when our eyes are glued
to the addiction of connection
forever lying
between our fingers.
03/02/2015
(edited 16/09/2016)
YOU ARE READING
may.
Poetryi wrote most of this when i was 12 or smth lmao and i continue to embarrass myself lmao
