There's something warm about my winter,
When fall breezes gives way to winter wind
And the snow we don't get becomes a possibility.
He has me open my Christmas gift early
Because he couldn't wait to see my face.
Winter break is when I get to see him
The nights get longer and our curfews get later.
I drive around the city while he pays for gas.
The pink in his cheeks makes the wind chill worth it.
I could handle home when I'm with him.
There's something warm about hiking off the trails
With friends I haven't seen in months
And that I won't see again for just as long.
We climb high enough to see where the naked branches reach heaven
Hiding behind trees and rocks, unaware of how dumb we look.
The leaves under our boots give us away
But the strangers who see us don't even care.
Neither do we.
There's something warm about biking with old friends
When nothing else is real
Except for bright pink bikes with broken bells.
I sweat through my winter coat that smells like fire pit smoke
And hum la vie en rose under my breathlike I can speak French
Even though they all know I can't.
There's something warm about Christmas
When family feuds are put aside to pick out a tree
Short enough to fit in our low ceiling living room
And our dad has to rush to Walmart the night before Christmas
Because our decades old tree topper finally died.
We wake up that next morning
Knowing that our dogs won't be there under the tree
Like they had been every year before.
There's something warm about the New Year
When champagne tastes like freedom
And I get to share my first kiss of the decade with the boy I love.
We run into the street
To watch my brother throw firecrackers into the sewer
And shoot off Roman candles like we're wizards,
Trying to forget what comes next.
There's something warm about crying
When my friends go back to school
And our curfews turn from midnight to 10:30.
I hate crying in front of people, but he's the exception
He holds me in the movie theater parking lot
Where the broken street lamps hide us away.
I'm afraid of missing someone and being missed in return
That I can barely let go when he has to leave.
There's something warm about spring
When life hits and I have to leave again.
We all make plans for tomorrow
Knowing I won't be there.
