frankoceanwhereisthealbum

The way you sit on my desk
So quietly and polite
You’re much obliged

The way you whisper in my ear
You always were the most private
Yet you share it all with me

Most people overlook you

If there was one thing inedible I could taste, it would probably be Tide Pods. You know, the little plastic packages containing laundry detergent.

As I stand atop the Ark
I wonder Why

Why does the Sun rise?
Why does it set?

And while I hear the sounds
of elephant families trumpeting

And while I watch the gnus
sprinting through the watering hole

It all

His little freckles
That match the brown specs in his eyes

His bright red backpack
Making him stand out from the rest of the crowd

His beat up sneakers
Covered in holes

His soft, calm voice

Those big brown eyes
And as I look into them
They tell me stories that his lips are too afraid to say

Those big brown eyes 
They almost hypnotize me 
Whispering sweet nothings into my ears

Those big brown eyes

sitting on concrete

pink frosting smeared on our lips

music blasting loud