• Is love too much to ask for? I miss the warmth of winter and the childish sense of wondering and longing. Breaking down innocence until you don't recognize yourself. The harsh, brash reality of falling into the further and having no recollection of the times you once knew. The times you'll never get back. The time wasted. The times when you realize what you've cut off. The times you remember. The times you don't want to forget. The times when you don't cross her mind and the years she hasn't left yours.

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