But he isn’t my star,
Nor is he my moon,
Nor is he my sun, settling in the afternoon,
He is my world, that holds my sky,
You see, if he was my star, there would be galaxies,
if he was my moon, the sun would still rise, but he is my world
So without him, what am I? -l.m
I walked down the street the other day and fell into an empty puddle of things that I have lost. I found myself within a crack and I can’t tell if my heart placed it on the road or if I’ve been walking on my own heart for this long. I guess you could say the broken doesn’t stay that way for too long. I walked down the street the other day and I found myself whole. I guess you could say, time did me a favor and it’s something I can’t return. It’s something I can’t return, but I guess I could always try. The puddle of lost things, I wonder if you were in there too. I wonder if you placed it there.