the next day,
autumn had seemed to end,
just as quickly as youth diminished,
and leaves crumbled,
snow fell,
to cover ourselves with frost.
that pristine cold felt wonderful,
against my warm cheeks,
and wild growing in my heart,
like weeds i had to pull out,
in a garden where flowers once grew.
i had almost forgotten about you,
but your scarf of cinnamon laced into each strand,
wafted by my nose briefly,
even when i smelled lavenders and jasmines
that wanted to so desperately,
seep into my skin.
i remembered how silent you were,
turning your eyes away,
holding new hands,
trying to break me,
hurt me,
but i remember knowing you best.
koushi watched on daily,
and i tried not to hurt him,
but he began growing distant,
and i had thought,
i'm let go again,
because my words has always differed from my heart.
"it's been one month,"
he twiddled his fingers with the handle of a cup of coffee.
"i know you don't like me,"
he chuckles solemnly,
and he holds my hand one last time before earnestly telling me,
"good luck!"
before exiting as the bells jingled and bursts of snow came forth,
as i could hear resonating sniffles,
that even snow,
couldn't incorporate into it's silence.
my mouth open,
my words at the tip of my tongue,
i felt deliriously in love.
i should have told him something
or i should've grasped onto his hand that now seemed,
to imperfectly fit against mine.
my heart strained painfully,
in that wintry loneliness,
i drank his cup of coffee,
alone.
