(with a girl)
it's spring. everything is new again. spring looks after you, she braids cherry blossoms into your hair.
it's summer - too hot to think. only it's delusions, it's hormones, it's mistakes. so forget love for now, you'll find him later on when you know what he looks like. it's better for you to ask summer to make you forget the girl. and in turn, summer burns every hesitation you've made and presses soft kisses into your skin. only for her to turn away, laughing at how easy it was.
autumn? she runs in to your life out of nowhere. autumn makes sure you remember her; she makes the leaves on the trees whisper about her when you walk past, she paints everything you cry about across the sky. you walk and you walk. one day, a book about shooting stars falls out of the library shelf and you stare at one picture forever. you take out the book and read it over and over again until every word has made its way into your heart. you return it to the library. you stop going there. the book has gone back to its home and now, autumn has to go back too. she doesn't want to, you see her clinging onto every piece of you she sees. she searches for you in every piece of moonlight and sleeps near the ocean, thinking about when you'll run back to her. she sits on a bench at the park, waiting and begging time for more chances. you forget. she leaves and only then do you remember.
somehow, it's winter - he arrives in a strange hue of blue you don't know. you forget the colour of love, you only remember how it slept itself away. you don't know what to say to winter anymore. so you just tell him that the girl you love left you a long time ago, somewhere in autumn. he tells you it was only a season ago (he knows it's been much longer since she left). he feels sorry for you. winter paints a pink sky for you and that's the end.
she left and you can't look at the sky the same anymore.
maybe she's a star now or maybe she'll return with spring.