Mask your soul.

Like pretty instrumentals, you run through my veins like hot blood and the sound of symphonies. You make me boil. To the point where the tea leaves of my soul are over steeped. Like ice along my flesh, you make me cringe. And it’s funny,because I did that to you. You gave me, love. But with all that love comes with, you lacked. You led me a stray, as I led you far beyond my love. So far away. The simple sound of your voice will lead flowers across my tomb to bloom, when I’m a pretty angel above you. And when the hot air and tropical flowers of summertime come along, I shall remember you. You are my summer girl. The icy chill of winter only made us bitter and broken people. And the heat and comfort of summer matched our love. No matter what year, summer was our season. And when it comes along, I shall remember you.