You are the boy who is like the sun, but I’m like the cloudy days. You are the boy who resembles soft, warm, breeze that blows gently through my hair almost so beautifully I wonder how our souls could ever touch, but I am the winds you would never want to feel, the winds that you try to block with layers of warm fabric because if I get too close, you’ll start to feel the cold, sharp, sting of winter. You are the boy who’s words are strung together with the purest of gold, but I don’t speak because my mouth was taken and my words were never there. You are the boy who has a voice that is mountains more beautiful than the music people pay money to hear so much that I am jealous of those who get to hear it. But my voice sounds like silence, the type that doesn’t calm you but makes your soul roar with noises you’d wish never to hear.
But it’s okay, because I will forget about you. You’re nothing to me. All you will ever be is the sun that carries warmth and the voice that speaks words strung together with gold that is more beautiful than music. You belong with the flowers that used to smell like life and the songs that used to make my happy. I hope you’ll do well.
the girl who is covered with clouds of winter and never speaks because she has no voice.