dont paint me black

when i used to be golden

If flowers that dropped from trees could remain fresh and the exact color they dropped as,we wouldn't call them dirt.
We would call them "beautiful things that form a beautiful natural colorful carpet" and even wait for the season that they would fall again and again without ever ceasing to do so.
They're still beautiful
^_^

I miss you,
I miss talking to you like I haven't talked to you in weeks,
as if before was what we had going on now,
not talking,
and when we talked we were so happy to talk,
so excited,
like we were not able to speak,
for staring through a monitor was enough,
like every dream we had was build on dirt and fairytale's,
but one thing we never forgot to include was the trust,
I honestly never had a better friend,
I never loved someone to the end as much as I did with him,
But what could I of missed,
to miss the fact that he got upset by me,
to the point where he no longer wants to speak to me,
what did I miss,
when he wouldn't even phone to tell me with his his own two lips.
when I cried for days,
praying,
saying,
I'm sorry for whatever I've done,
I just miss you,
because I feel as if the flowers all closed up,
and the bee's can't pollinate for the honey,
and now everyone must suffer greatly.
because you can make a flower open up to you,
by missing it.

people come and go,
and save your soul,
for things that are worth your breath that you breathe,

and as every good thing comes to an end,
you hope to god for it to stay forever,
hopping for it to last forever as if wishing the sun to not set every night.

but as time passes you must realize,
like the wind blow away and is gone,
as will you be one day,

so make most of each moment,
as if it is the very last day,
with things that feel like love,

because like the things that save you now,
cannot be able to save you later as they do now,
as you see your only safe for the moment.