Who are you, really?
You are not a name or a height or a weight or a gender.
You are not an age and you are not where you are from.
You are your favorite books and the songs stuck in your head.
You are your thoughts and what you eat for breakfast on Saturdays mornings.
You are a thousand things , but everyone chooses to see the million things you are not.
You are not where you are from.
You are where you are going...
Love
I spent January shivering in the absence of your lips as I watched others kiss at the count of the New Year.
I spent February wishing to spend the lover's holiday in the arms of my lover.
I spent March watching the new Spring flowers grow , as my love for you grew twice as much.
I spent April counting raindrops as if all the raindrops in the world could measure my love for you.
I spent May laying by the moon at the peaks of each night, with tears in my eyes, and love in my heart.
I spent June wishing that your face would spark familiarity in the crowd of dozens.
I spent July watching fireworks that resembled the slowly dimming spark of love I held within me.
I spent August counting the stars and wondering how many stars separated a You from an I .
I spent September watching Autumn leaves fall from trees, as I so nostalgically remembered falling for you just the same.
I spent October doing not much else than craving the warmth of your skin, melting the surface of my cold frailty.
I spent November with a frost on my lips, and an even colder hole forming inside of my heart.
And now, I spend December, loving the very same love whom I've carried inside of my hear from far more than just 12 months...