I'm done wishing on shooting stars
I am done with you
I'll let dust settle on my telescope
Let dust settle in my lungs
Press your palm to my lips and tell me;
"Hush, don't wish on things falling too fast to hear you"
Maybe I'll wish on seashells instead
They are quite houses for muted ghosts
They are more alive than you have ever been
I'll let you pull me under, paint my eyes with salt
Blind me
Tell me;
"Hush, even dead things can be beautiful"
BINABASA MO ANG
Poems by ME
PoetryA bunch of Poems that I wrote. I hope you like them NOTE-goes through a lot of edits EXTRA NOTE-I probably have made a spelling/grammatical mistake so please don't be afraid to tell me
