Was there something I unknowingly said that gave you the desire to witness me mature till the day we turn into ash and gray?
I grow a large swelled head birthed from a seed of your uplifting compliment, nourished by the rain of your diurnal encouragement
Do you need me?
Do I refresh you?
Are we fated?
Or are we doomed to soon disremember every word we've spoken to each other?
Will I be the one to bring that end?
