and i know you're not mine anymore, 

but that doesn't stop me from caring. 

she told me i let you go, 

but now that my faith was wearing. 

my biggest regret was ever letting you go, 

now i'm in the moss falling asleep. 

i hope that one day, your warm heart aches for me. 

 

the only things i have left of you are a playlist and a pressed flower. 

i pressed it in the summer, 

and i think i kept you with it. 

because you're the summer and the spring as well, 

and maybe even the autumn. 

but never the winter, oh lord, NEVER the winter because you could never be cold. 

 

you're the sweet breeze in the stifling heat, 

or the daffodil from the cold ground.

and no matter what happens, 

whoever you love,

i'll always be here in silence and sickness, 

sick with the idea of loving you, 

crying with the idea of loving you, 

screaming with the idea of loving you, 

smiling with all my love for you. 

 

you grow. 

and God save my inconsolable soul.