SchloarchipSlam
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His hair is so gorgeous as I view him up close and far away. It is as brown as the bark on trees. His stature: he’s only a couple of inches taller than me, I still catch myself peering up to make eye contact with him.
He doesn't love her.
he doesn't know her.
He doesn't care.
the shoe.
The material.
he wouldn't even if he could.
That moment was nothing more than that
a moment.
A desperate
sad
My voice
Is something which my ears fail to define
When it kisses the air, it splinters
Into exactly 2 billion and 3 question marks
Hooking round my pores and
Peppering my flesh with pock-marks of stray
