My page was too white
My ink was too thin
The day wouldn’t write
What the night pencilled in.
It blows my mind that after all this time you’ve spent on earth, nobody ever bothered to tell you that your eyes aren’t fucking brown.
They are copper against honey and sage and when they water they glow, two perfect orbs the same shade as nature after it rains.
Then the door opened and she came into the room - and it was as though everything in it suddenly blurred before his eyes. He had not remembered how beautiful she was, and he felt his face grow pale and his voice diminish to a poor sigh in his throat.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
From which stars have we fallen to meet each other here?
Birds born in a cage think flying is an illness.