Day: Apr 24, 2020

No longer noticing airplanes over your house, it’s lonely these days.

The sky is empty. Only two pink clouds and a few lost sunrays.

Used to imagine that planes were stars guarding your thoughts.

Wished on a shooting hope but it didn’t work.

Horizon is covered in blank spots. A goddamn mirage.

The view out of my window seemed picturesque back then.

For a stranger passing it looked like a dollhouse, time and again.

Now the walls are too pale and the dust settles on my skin.

I’m pulling my hand away from the trigger so often –

Not often enough, much to my own chagrin.

The sunset feels Photoshopped, and I don’t know what to say.

For the first time I wanted to take your hand, I wanted to stay.

Now my foolish body is filled with butterflies with nowhere to run.

We might not have the stars or the airplanes, and screw that –

I really wish that I’m still the only one.