Spring

Trees are losing their shine, pastel pink flowers that once umbrella over the greens now make way for the harsh cold. I never thought words could hurt this bad, never knew meaning second to the only one you regard first could kill you inside. The skies are pink now, maybe they do love you too, see, darling, maybe that's why they're bleeding. I find comfort in my sorrow, it shows that I still have an ounce of something; an emotion of some sort to grip onto. Corny, a cliché; life. is. fragile. Trying to take things simply now, without an iota of indifference and trying not to flare, trying to bleed till I'm dry, trying to consume myself from within. When you left you took the part of my soul that made me live/ love, you took one of the few things that dictated to others that I was still alive. I'm trying I'm trying I'm trying, I really am, I seem to shout, you seem to echo it too. 

Let's be a better person for each other, 

I'll be a better person for you. 

I promise