I found the cure to growing old in her peppermint smile.
I'd be damned if I didn't mention that
even the mere sight of her handle gives me heart palpitations.
A gentle tip tapping, ripping at the delicate muscle.
Sometimes I want to pull a "Practical Magic" and
Just set a spell telling me that,
No, I don't fall in love with those eyes.
No, I don't find the way you laugh at me endearing at all.
No. That isn't the slightest bit true.
And of course number one on my list is not to lie.
And how dare I break that rule,
By lying to myself, telling me that I don't want you.
As the Summer died, gasping out His final breath.
Winter takes Her hold on me.
Two aspects of my soul, fighting for the spotlight.
Because where he was warm and wild,
She is cool and gentle.
And where he loved me in the moonlight,
She'll love me in the sun.
The way her hand cradles my heart,
As though it was a hawk with a broken wing.
Something fierce and crippled.
Makes the tip tapping grow a little more each day.
-XoHunter.
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