Your scent stays in strange places, waiting for me to stumble upon them and get lost. I can feel you, then. The first time you taught me to swim, swear, or kick. I can see you in cap and gown, on the field, crying next to me. My cheeks burn with the memory of my tears seeping into your suit jacket.
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for growing with me, a tree to shelter the garden I am becoming.
I love you.
When they said time will heal all wounds,
they didn't mean the ones you self-inflict.
you sometimes drive me crazy, but I worry about you...
|