It was the stars and the sun and the bird and I am a bird but I am not/that/ bird I’m just an egg and I can’t tell if I am/that/ egg or just a mystery orb but birds sleep at night just like most humans and I am neither which is why I have been hoarding all those stars to recreate my own universe where maybe I belong.
excerpts from poems I never should have written #33 (via allofthecolourinsideme)








