Does love really grow?
Or does it wither away?
Like the flower you blow back into the earth. Seeing it lightly explode before your eyes.
Like the firefly you chase after
Like the moon that hides behind the clouds.
All beautiful things.
Your presence sometimes distant, but still remains
Green grass in the winter
Snow in the spring
Love could be a seasonal thing.
Yet, I still hope for that feeling…
That feeling I get when he says he has to go.
When I really just want him to stay forever
So we can exist in that moment we had together
Then years go by…
We have either changed, or we are no longer together
We really moved along just like the weather.
I’m waiting for my Indian summer to return.