i met two seasons

R

right when i met spring my life began looking different.
i couldn't put my finger on it, but subtle changes were made to make things look brighter than i remembered.
small patches of grass peaked out from large fields,
i began to prefer wearing converse over my bulky snow boots,
i began looking forward to seeing something other than my warm bed.
when i tell spring that she saved me, she brushes it off and thinks of herself as nothing special.

i never told her about the shredded suicide letter sitting at the bottom of my trash can.