I was your winter.
Filled with snow and ice, filled with dark gray skies. Sometimes regret, sometimes not. I was your silence, your unploughed streets, and sometimes I was even your magic.
When you say my name now, you can’t stop your jaw from cracking.
You could never imagine me as anything but beautiful. I tried to warn you. My bones are bent nostalgia. I tried to tell you. One day you would end up missing me.
The months last too long in winter.
The nights just drag on.
I just drag on in your mind, as if your affection was an ankle turned blue on that old black ice.