Sometimes it’s like you’re all in my head. Like I must have made you up over night. Some kind of fever dream that never really existed. To everyone else you are only a figment of my imagination. Gone with the wind. The time we spent together slips through my fingers like sand. The memories flutter away like butterflies and soon I cannot even remember your face or the sound of your voice. Days turn into nights and the touch of your hand turns into dreams. And what a beautiful bittersweet dream it was.














