A day before we turned three we died, you and i. It was an unnatural phenomenon, but one that was in the making for a while. Words were your problem, patterns mine.
Can we go back to being friends, you said, the way we were before. We did better than that. We became strangers.
It's been awfully cold this past week. Yesterday, as the soft blankets passed on their body's warmth to mine, i realised the cold wasn't outside.
It was within.
3 comments:
I promise you sunshine and rainbows this year. Your quota of rain is over. (Hug)
Someone needs to make that one warm move to shoo the coldness.
mama mia... that was poignant and brilliant. i wish i could write so beautiful.
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