polaris

This is what I know: He will not come back. My mother used to warn me, beware of boys who live under stage lights, guitar solos, and the fame that comes with it. On my right wrist, there are the scripted words: love is no journey. On the left: it ends when it begins. —A move, a dream, a city with too many flashing lights. AH. PROCESS OF BEING REWRITTEN.