everytime you look at the starts,
it's like opening a door.
you could be anyone, anywhere.
you could be yourself at any moment of your life.
you open the door and realise you're the some under the same stars.
camping in the backyard at eleven,
driving alone,
stopping at the edge of the city,
looking up to the stors,
a poth,
riding orow boot,
staring out the window of a car,
you're eleven again.
out here where the world begins and ends,
it's like nothing ever happening...
YOU ARE READING
pesan tak sampai
Poetryjujur, selama aku sakit hanya tulisan dan curhat menjadi teman sejati. bagi aku, manusia hanya mendengar tapi jauh sekali memahami. tulisan menjadi sesi romantis dengan diri sendiri. dengan tulisan, aku rasa bebas. biarlah semua pergi dengan luahan...
