You are not my winter season.
Therefore you are my three seasons—
Autumn, summer and spring.
I can see myself keep falling for you.
Every time you embraced me
I can feel the warmth of your soul.
I get melted by your touch.
You have awaken the love
and happiness in me
that slept for too long.
You let them bloom,
and turn into a beautiful but frail flower.
YOU ARE READING
The Garden of Words
RandomThis is not a story. This is a collection of feelings written during those times when I only got my frail heart and mind. And lost the colorful butterfly in my sight.
