it's been a week since the last time i saw her.
i shouldn't worry, but i do.
i know this is destroying me, but i don't care anymore.
i light up a cigarette.
and in the smoke, i see her.
i see insomnia.
and even in the fire of the match, and in the ashes.
even when she's not here, she's the only thing i can see.
because... she might be a falling star, but, like them,
she shines more than anything in the world.
YOU ARE READING
insomnia.
Random«her name was insomnia, and she was the greatest metaphor a poet has ever written.»
