"we die and we come back to life this season" he says
his thoughts parted by millions of cobwebs
i look at him and he looks at me too
the poppys are withering away in their vase downstairs
my mothers dead and 'as left me with nothing
other than your other-worldy presence
you tell me something
and i don't want to believe you
but i still do
because, who am i kidding, you're charming and sweet and caring
i think
and i'm just like winter - a deadly mess
your eyes are philosophical galaxies
showered in the knoweledge of a thousand years
that only you could gain in a few
and your hair is of a timid black
shy of raven and shy of very light black
but i still love it
you're my sun, my moon and my stars
and i'm just a mere fragment of your life
don't go away, because i don't want my sadness to leave me
don't take my winter away
i like to wallow in self-pity
i like to bath in hate
