The moments won’t last and the

love always does.

Memories shape the broken pieces of me

as a vase shapes the water,

but the frost is coming and

everything breaks with the cold.

I hold your body’s sweet memories for their

fading

warmth and hope to life,

but for what?

Life is a series of overdramatic events

played by unbelievable actors.

The hero dies before the end,

the damsel rescues herself,

and nobody gets who they want.

You pull your trigger to kill me and

I get back up,

somehow,

every time.

Until you get tired

of pulling my wings off

just to watch them regrow.

I dont melt when I fly at your sun,

you just dim until I don’t know

where to go.

I get lost and far and confused

because it’s so cold up here,

and then your house lights come on

because

it’s time to go and you want my warmth

for the night or for the dark wood

you’re stuck in.

The nights are cold after you’re gone and

I make believe that I kept some part of your hot heart,

some corner of your gorgeous smile,

or some slice of your playful, fun, accents.

But nothing lasts.

The skies falls onto

the beautiful forests we walked

and the dance floors we moved on,

until we face eternity

alone.