Every time I come across bluebells
whether in reality or photographs
I hear your voice reminding me
that I was beautiful in your eyes.
And I know that bluebells are
pretty just like me, and maybe
just maybe I am one of them.
That would explain so much.
Like why I die every winter
just before your birthday
and come to life in Springtime
that might be why we are
exactly 6 years and 6 months apart,
the precise reason we could never last,
and the excuse I’ll use for losing you
that first moment summer warmed up.
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