Our love in the Wintertime has passed through the Spring, Summer and Autumn. Our love in the Wintertime is frozen underneath layers of mistrust, hurt and anger. Our love in the Wintertime has been drenched in ice petrified into silence where no-one speaks . Our love in the Wintertime is hibernating, waiting for the spring sunlight to thaw these bitter hearts. Our love in the Wintertime has frosted over, withered in the Autumn to die in the Winter.
i am writing again, what does this mean? am i regressing back into the worst versions of myself, or am i entering a new revival? nevertheless, i am writing. i do not know what it means, i do not want to know. if i know what it means, i will not write.