Words thrown across the page in the prettiest pink you could imagine
and with handwriting written in the neatest form one could muster,
I read the words
"Dear strawberry"
Poetry im glad you still live in the cracks of my mind where we used to sing about ice cream over the phone;
We held on for dear life (as if the world would stop tge second we fell asleep like the first time you made me feel wanted) just to say silly things to keep us going when the the only thing left in the universe was a mix of us and stardust.
Sadly my reply has not been written yet because work calls me everyday and im to tired to create a page of ramblings from the hell I've been in.
But i promise one day soon my hushed secrets will reach your eyes for the first time just like how the stars reach for the moon.
Paradise is only a letter away and im to busy to visit blank pages to create it.
Busy in my own world thats been captured in a glass jar,
Soon, this glass will bust, and when it does ill let the fireflies out one more time to illuminate the snowflakes that have fallen over summers heated days...
