You are the Rosaline of my life.
I wished for us to be the Amelie and Quicampoix of life.
I need you to smile like Sabrina of the Larrabee family.
And dream as though you were the Holly Golightly living in my heart.
But we'd be as far as Princess Ann and that loser journalist.
Who can we be, so to dream and convert my chances into our opportunities?
Our dreamy nights witnessing the beauty of fireworks reaching out for the heavens.
My tears in the night, a tear of fear of ever not holding your hands.
What do I do with myself to be lying down in the clouds with the royals of love?
Perhaps I could write a tale or two, atonementesque, just to please my hearts.
Dedicating every second of moving picture to her.
Aye!
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