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Winter
i love and hate winter at the same time oozing with loathe towards it
i will ache at the past and how he kissed me on the corner near my house
and i will reminisce on how i don't think our story is about love i think it's about the ache. There's love in it, gripping the handles slipping down the door trying to pry in, but nobody can ever know if it'll be let inside.
i will reminisce on the porch i used to sit on at 4 am with a boy i was in a deep limerence with and now i will stand on the same spot alone.
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