Category: Poems

  • Starry Night (Prosopagnosia)

    She got the whole sky,

    Painted in her nails.

    A beautiful shade of blue,

    And sprinkling bright stars.

    It’s the starry night,

    Of her own kind.

    It’s the starry night,

    The kind I like.

    The hypnotic swirl,

    Takes with it, the din.

    Settling down the chaos,

    The one across from,

    And the one within me.

    And then I find myself in a crowd,

    Stumbling, Getting pushed around.

    Still I try my best to get a glimpse

    Of a distancing star that blinks