I knew the situation at hand.
So it's against the rules to care or cry.
I'm expected to be immune.

I broke the rules, and fell.
Experiencing the awkward moments that is
Falling alone.
Failing by confessing my love.
Meanwhile you changed the meaning of the word.

Lust became the enemy.
Emotions and erotica never intertwine,
At least for me.

"Maybe we got too deep into this thing we're doing." And on that note he leaves.

I look at the sun and see God
And I talk to him and pray for you
I confess to him "I really did love him ya know"
And I don't know if its sarcasm or not but he just continues to beam
Sometimes even brighter, almost blinding so I squint so I can listen
It's as if he's saying "it's not over yet, he could always come back around"
Because the sun always comes back out.
I pray that you find happiness,
Then I take it back and pray that you find happiness with me.
The sun stares me down until i make my prayer unselfish and I eventually pray I find happiness with or without you.

I look to the sun and see god, and I always remind him "I really did love him ya know"

There's just something in the sunshine.
Something that lets me know things will always be alright, no matter what.
It's the symbol of hope, that there is always a new day, a different tomorrow.
It washes a warmth of possibility over me.
A fresh start each morning, a different forever we're in search of.
Each spring that sunshine saves me.
Something in its rays that gives purpose to my words.
That warmth washes over me and gives me strength to press forward.

Just be there

But he always is out trying to save the **** world
Maybe he forgets I need help sometimes too
Superman has these ******* lapses in judgment that make him think sometimes even though we're in separate states I'm perfectly fine not hearing from him. He doesn't seem to understand that's all I have. We got closest through these **** mobile phones always rushing to respond, FaceTime, call, and listen. Now it's like pulling teeth just trying to have a conversation worth having. I've forgotten what his voice sounds like, forgotten his ****** expressions. Constantly on edge because now when I see his name pops up I'm so agitated that he still hasn't noticed the problem. Just give me my superman.

Your parents don't tell you what it feels like to be shot or stabbed when you're born.
They don't have to, because there isn't really any way to describe it. You can't know how it feels or describe the pain if you haven't felt it, lived it.
But why would they tell their precious baby boy or girl how that feels? Scaring them before they've actually lived. Triggering fear before they even know what fear is.
No, you can't describe how it feels to be stabbed. When it happens it just happens, it's so painful you can't even say you're in pain, because you're eyes are always so shocked that pain like that even exists. Your body goes numb at the sight of its own blood.
No one wants to be warned of that image, just like they don't want to listen when they're warned about falling in love.

My mom taught me how to be alone.
That doesn't mean I enjoy it because
Despite what she says I still believe
There's someone out there
For me

However
She's taught me to never back down
See she's a Sagittarius like me and
Oh how we cannot be tamed

So whenever I come back home to tell
her about so and so or whathisname
we never fret when I say he didn't make the cut
Because she knows who she raised

I like to be told good morning every morning
I don't like being told what to do, or how to do it
unless...
And if he does it wrong
He's a goner

Yes Mama warned me
She said never get strung out on the birds and the bees
There's nothing between a man's legs that is golden
Nothing that should make you forget who you are

Yes she told me
She instilled a power in me
The reason I lead
not flock
I call the shots
Be someone's backbone
But never settle for being just in the back
Make your face THE face
Be needed, on your terms

Mama told me never to let a man be my tamer.
I am mine before I am anyone else's.
Only I can do the taming.

Thoughts stampeding through my mind as my eyes try to focus on pages of words.
Images of myself clashing with those of Jean causing me to neglect the story she's trying to break down to me.
It's just hard to hear her over my screams.
Visualizing the car scene that took place just an hour ago
Envisioning myself as the demon
Wondering if I was overreacting...

Replaying all the scenes where my anger fuse has dwindled too fast
My mouth pained with a quick tongue
Curious if a drink would've calmed my nerves

I just hope people don't replay these moments like I do...

thank you for making me happy.
I can't thank you enough for these laughs I can't stop sharing
These smiles I can't stop bearing
Thank you for holding me up
Literally
Laughing at my messiness as you help clean up the mess
You really are something.

It could've been the hottest day of the year. The kind of heat where the brown gets browner and everyone has that glistening sensation that's really just a mild layer of sweat. It was the kind of heat where that light scent of must mixed in with the incents and kush clouds.

I feel guilt.
As I stroke his palms with my finger tips after we made riddles, poems, and limericks
But all I can think of is what I should call this figure. So I try to find inspiration drawing words from tracing his outline as his brush strokes my page. I hear riddles. poems and haikous as I wonder what exactly he can be defined as: my man, my fling, my boo? So we paint to draw a conclusion as I make limericks with licks and he adjusts brushes to make us, all the while the two vibe making designs. And at the end of this creative process maybe the end result will name him as mine.

This is especially written for you.
Out there.
For the colored girls.

The girls that are insecure with their lovely brown tint
in between the deep chocolate and lemon yellows.
you'll never hear the term red or yellow bone
You don't know what color your bones possess

The girls whose hair used to naturally curl but couldn't hold the press and curl long enough to feel like its meant for you to look like that all the time. So you agreed when your mama offered to relax your hair so you could relax too. That way even if you couldn't be as light as the mixed girls and the red bones, at least your hair could be as laid as theirs…

I'm writing this to the girls that weren't blessed with the hips nor *** black women are forever praised for. Questioning why our figures aren't as exotic as society tries to generalize. We aren't fit to be the token when we lack the true characteristics that are associated with our ancestors, right? I'm writing this for the tokens that have lost themselves in the crowds they've tried to fit into. Don't lose yourself forgetting to be you.

I'm writing this for every colored girl that questioned if she was beautiful, as I used to do. Always assuming  everything bad that happened was because you simply weren't light enough for good things to happen to you. No light girl, white girl priviledge. I'm writing this to resurrect all the ill feelings i've ever thought about my blackness before I realized it was okay to be so, in hopes that maybe I can ease a colored girl's mind when she feels like she's too black for the world.

This is for her.
The beautiful colored girl.

I come from pain, but I've worn it with grace for almost twenty years.

I was born to serve my mother
I'm her last hope when she loses faith in all things
I love her more than anything in this world
But the world has made her so cold
It's hard loving someone that sees so much disappointment and
She blames herself, wondering why she's been sentenced to double life
Stress

I want to make her so happy
I want to take on all her burdens
I know my love can't heal all her pain
It can't fill the cracks that the last 7 years have brought along

I'm the only sane child I think
I've heard the same scoldings so many times
I've had my act together since the fifth grade.

She led us down the right path.
She just wasn't there to choose the forks
Thats where some were led astray

I wonder why me?
Why did I make all the right friends?
Why did I do all the right things?
How can being so right feel so wrong?

I feel this imbedded desire to live up to being the chosen one.

He knew she'd never leave.
Mistakes become true testaments of love supposedly, women tend to accept a man's wrongs as a way to show their loyalty.
Sticking through thick and thin, while their men
skip and skim through options.
I was an option.
Somedays I was proud to be his safe haven, his lover, most of all his friend.
I was in love with the comfort and knowing he'd would always be there.
Other days I was lonely. When hours past and there was no sign of him I assumed I had ran my course.
That she had returned, but we both knew she had never left or planned on leaving.
I knew I was in love when the pain became more painful.
As I spent each holiday alone, my reflection mocked me.
I questioned which I'd rather be a secret or a mockery.
I still don't know personally.
The women, or "girls" with the relationships we envy  I've noticed seem to rather be made mockeries.
You see a strong, confident, beautiful, intelligent, and independent lady become weak, cowardly, dependent, clingy, oblivious, insecure, and naive.
The denial is their safe haven.
Well he was mine.
I became all of the above, except naive.
I always knew.
He always knew I'd leave, and deep down I knew it too.

When I speak of my past loves my face always lights up because i reminisce to times of laughter,kisses, and bliss. I've been in love numerous times, but I question which exactly was the real one? Because you always want what you can't have...

Sometimes it's like I'm in love with my best friend,
because when we laugh we're equally obnoxious
He's always doing things a husband would do
the simple things
and he listens when I talk about my trivial female issues
and he learns to understand all my mood swings
and he ignores the sinning I do when he's not around
he loves me, and reminds me every time I need reassurance
as to why I am capable of being loved.

But sometimes I just want to live and take risks!
So I've danced with the devil a few times just to try the feel
that they say some men can bring, that feel they say will drive a woman to do
crazy things, and it in fact resulted in me doing some crazy things
like living in the moment
getting so ******* in love you forget what day it is
forgetting there is a whole world because in those moments
the world is you and him
with your legs wrapped around his waist
and your arms around his neck
saying you've missed him when only a matter of hours had passed before you saw him again

I guess it's possible to be in love with two people,
but if it came down to it you'd know exactly who you'd choose
even if he wouldn't choose you.

I find myself in a three- way love affair.
An intersection of different loves that live in me
Love that helps me find beauty, and give it back to the Earth
Give it back to the Lord.

He's helped me love him, give myself to him
and gaining myself in return
It's the beautiful form of true love once you're submerged in his water
and cleansed of all that held you back from love.

He promised love would come through him.

Sending me someone that was made in his form, forcing me to learn
forcing me to open my eyes to new perspectives.
We fall into a three way love affair, putting you first
and being grateful enough to find each other through you.

He's helped me love her.
Singing imperfections with love
Smiling at her reflection at her worst
Taking pride at her best
A weight is lifted because she's blessed enough
to now know the difference between all the loves we thought we had known
and truly what being loved is
what loving is.

It is you.

I wonder if I even want a response anymore. Because I always enjoy the challenge of being ignored. I'll complain about it, then still call you when I'm drunk, text you when I'm lonely. No response. And I'll go through my day as if I never was rejected. Neglect to tell my friends I had a relapse, that I'd been relapsing for 5 months now with no signs that there was even a good cause to fight for. Maybe I don't want anyone for my own, too complicated, too public, too much effort. So I like to intrude on things already in progress to be everything their missing, that thrill. But thrills only last so long. You taught me that.

Does time exist? Does it matter even?
If I loved him then, will I love him forever?
If in a matter of weeks he becomes a stranger
Did I ever know him at all?
As the days fade, and new memories are created
I wonder what he could possibly be doing that doesn't cross my world.
But then again we went 17 years without crossing paths.
What's another 17?
In that time will my love become dormant and
arise with the first sight of him?
I'll only know then. Hibernating.
Time waits for no one, but if it doesn't exist
I can be waiting forever subconsciously.
Never noticing until I see what I've been waiting for.
That moment when I come across a stranger with whom memories I share.

Her name was Tina and she loved the idea of true love. She was young and beautiful, so she was told, with ambitions that were limitless and smiles that beamed of achievement. Perfection wasn't the goal, but she almost appeared to be because when he squinted his eyes there was nothing he could find except how in love she was.

Her kisses were passionate, her words as well and overall she was sweet. There was never a moment you had to question where her mind was. Her emotions read in her words and her voice, in the way her eyes gleamed when she held back a tear.

She was preparing for a life of living and loved being young. She danced with the music, she sang all the notes as if they were her own. Tina was loved by many, and she had loved a few, but there was only one Tina was crazy about.

His words gave her butterflies, his kisses kept her going. For months she was her happiest, constantly in a rush to be back to this one. Careless of those that wanted her or loved him because he was all hers and she was all his.

This young girl so full of dreams, couldn't stop falling. Swirling down a staircase of heartache for someone that slowly revoked the hand he extended. She chased the hand and kept pulling him back, going insane constantly saying "it'll go back, it'll go back" back to the way it was it wouldn't. He'd revisit her in her dreams but that was it. Their realities would never meet. A goal she'd never achieve.
her name was Tina, as sweet as can be.

The sickest happiness.
Sick because most don't know the feeling,
But an undoubtable bliss.
Comfortable while being comforted
Undetachable
Irreplaceable
The highest level of platonic
Those people, those are the ones worth keeping.
Not because they make you happy, but because together is when you are at your best.
friendship is the dosage of humility and sanity. An influence that doesn't change you, but helps you maintain you.

don't let the transition become the permanent

can i use you?
just to transition to my permanent?
can you lead me to my future
be my present
just a hand to get me through

can i use you?
kiss me as i wait for my prince
distract me from this heartache i'm running from

You can use me too ya know
I'll give you tenderness
when the world is too rough on you
I'll give you erotica
when you've become bored

I just wanna use and be used.

It's all about transitions.
That ongoing change that you always want to run towards
but when the going gets tough you
run back to reminiscing.

He'll want me when my hair falls right above the dimples in my back. Luscious enough to blow in the wind, strong enough that is doesn't fall out when he grabs it yanking my head further back so he can keep his balance.

He'll love me when my silhouette is equal to the coke bottle I sip from in bed when i really should be in a gym drinking water, doing squats and sit ups. So he can play with my lady lumps and compare them to mountains.

He'll miss me when my skin is as yellow as the sun that disappears come winter. When I'm as golden as the sand.

He'll never be able to do these things.

My hair is as coarse as twigs , it stands stiff with curls that he can grasp, but his fingertips will get stuck. They'll remain steady, and although my dimples in my back will never meet them, they'll give him balance. Never letting his fingertips go.

I'm as slim as a twig with 2 oranges attached. No other curves. But he'll fall asleep on my oranges, and watch as I nurse with my oranges. Never letting my family go pillowless or hungry.

I'm as brown as a twig. Never a redbone or yellow one. Just perfectly peanut butter. The in between. A sweet caramel that is a perfect topping to treats. Holding the sun in my skin, brown. Always reminding him that summer will always be in me.

He'll never love me.
Because the media doesn't show us twigs.
The perfectly imperfect that wish we could look like those women our men fantasize about.
Even though we love our smiles, our laughs.
We love our voices, we love holding hands.
They'll never love us.
Twigs get lost in the golden sand.

I miss you unbearably.
Just take me back to the sunny days where our kisses were long, long and tender.
Moments we weren't together seemed like ages and temporarily the universe revolved around us.
Only us.
We were each other's everything
and a few months foreshadowed a forever.
I never loved like that before.
So uncontrollably, erotically, chaotically.
You were so calm, but got my heart jumping
My body jumping whenever you came to mind
When your body met mine
Beautiful browns intertwining making beauty I'd never seen.
Oh how happy you made me.
That night before I left for St. Louis we said goodbye as if I'd never come back, and I knew I loved you then. Not because we shared a sadness,
But because then we realized that a mere 3-4 days was too long to not be able to breathe in each others works or taste them and doing so couldn't take place without the blessings of our kiss.
I knew I loved you when the morning I awoke in Missouri and you wished me a good morning addressing me as your Mrs, and from that point that's all I wanted to be.

I miss you unbearably. I love you and cannot and will not stop. These memories are our forever.

Last night I forgot who I was, where I was, what I was wearing, even what I was feeling. I couldn’t feel my face, and there was numbness in my toes. Eyes closed, I heard nothing, saw nothing. But I felt a hidden passion that I knew from once before. My face was being held, with fingers playing explorer through my hair. But my face is numb, and now my lips are too. Disconnected yet connected at the same time. Knowing when this high wears off I’ll be in tune again. Our love will be like the 4th of June again. These kisses will feel brand new again. I’ll fall back in love with my best friend.

I miss the way he feels.
Under me.
On me.
Beside me.

Under me watching my every move.
Guiding my waist.
Lips being smushed as I warn him
To monitor his moans
Although I enjoy hearing him whisper
Yes, yes, yes

On me pressing his weight so I can't move
His face so serious until I pull him so close I can't see him anymore
Thrusting his body so that each stroke feels like someone is bulldozing my body
Wondering how no one can hear us because our bodies are screaming so loud and breaths becoming so rhythmic
it's almost disrespectful

Beside me letting me fall asleep on his chest while he plays video games as he waits to wake me back up
Kissing me all the while so I have the sweetest dreams
forehead, kiss
hair, kiss
hand, kiss
cheek, kiss
Then I'm up

I miss the way he feels under on beside
Me.
I just want you near.

"The black woman is the most unloved creature to walk the earth."

Our men do not value us.
They test our willpower, breaking us repeatedly
Claiming our self worth as weakness when the burden of his love becomes too strenuous

We do not know what it is like to be loved because pain neglect and disrespect come at a more rapid pace
The torture is endured in hopes of an evolving love
Some day...

I am ignored
My anger no matter the volume
Is never loud of enough for a man

At 8:30 this morning I was still hopeful. I still had a chance. It was possible. It was mine.

An hour later "We regret to inform you..."

An hour later it was over. the 4 months of waiting for absolutely nothing was over. "Excellent pool of candidates..."

I wondered if that made me less excellent. "highly competitive and qualified..."

Was I not qualified? I replayed my application over and over in my head and it sounded like it was mine.

"Oh, it was national" says my father.

Maybe I'm only qualified when it comes to Wisconsin, because the same thing happened to me at Regionals... Somewhere in America there is someone better equipped for your dream.

"We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors"
    Well, what if I have no luck left? What if I'm not excellent enough?

What if I'm not qualified enough?
What if I'm not deserving enough?

Then I look over my Journalism application. 120 spots.
120 qualified people out of a pool of who knows how many.
My morning made me feel unqualified as if there was a slim chance I could possibly obtain anything I truly wanted.

Then there's Beyonce and Jay-Z tickets everyone is raving about, but I'm in a stand still because I have **** I need to do. I have dreams that money actually can buy. So while everyone is raving about concert tickets,
I'm at a standstill wondering how in the hell will I afford to make my dreams come true when Beyonce could've made them happen 100 times over and then some...

Feeling unlucky, unwealthy, and under qualified

Then a friend tells me "cast your anxiety upon the lord"

Deep breath in.

Exhale. Something greater is coming my way.

Silence
In a room full of people I can't be heard
It's rare that I can captivate attention
Just drowned out by my lack of interest

I enter a room and you are unphased
Quick to rush to the next subject
I am not important enough
Whereas once you'd carry me
Told me I was rare
Now you have so much power my rareness is unimportant
Unphased

Little do they know I have small fantasies imagining what life would be like if he were mine.
Not one he in particular, but just someone.

Full of life
I can't squeeze a word in most times
He can't hear my voice
He's drowning in himself

We grow up and fall in love with ppl and things that were never meant for us. We make these things our own and become more alive than we ever were before.

Don't go falling for these Cali boys. They're undeniable, selling dreams with kisses on top. Views of the boulevards and sights of the sun. You might just find him and fall all at once.

Lover of black men and all their
Flaws and glory.

Just be you
In this world of us
Doors closed

Trap them all out
Let's just stay here
No one will have to know

Hopefully they'll forget about us
Just for a few more hours
Have to savor these moments of you
And me
Just being us

Breathe. No one to listen.
No one to repeat.
No one to judge.
Just us
Being us.

Day 2

For a second I felt missed as you yelled what was wrong with me

Then I watched your eyes roam
Then I watched hers watch you walk away.

Maybe you missed me until you saw her again.

Where do the lost souls go?
Do they?
dissolve with our tears
heal with our wounds
pass like time

where can we find all the things they have taken from us?
the spirit she's drained from my body
the strength from my mind

lord
tell me why the broken seek to break me?
because as i scream with anger
my lips quiver in sadness
and in that moment i'm hopeless again
wondering if i am the only one born into this

suffocating

He sleeps so late.
Wake up, wake up
I miss you too much.
It'd be different if I could be a part of your dreams, see what's behind those eyelids that keeps them closed so long.
But I'll never know.
So wake up, wake up
I miss you too much.

Crave me when the world is repulsed by all I have to give.
Show warmth as the flurries dance on my eyelashes and my breath becomes visible.
Remember there is only one of me,
And all of me wants all of you.

I want a break.
Just a day spent in silence, away from the world.
No one, not even myself.
I wish I could just isolate my mind from my body for just a day.
No one I'm forced to interact with, no one to give a fake emotion to.
For just a **** day I want someone to care about me. To see past the walls I build to meet their needs, and see I'm unhappy too. We're all unhappy.
I'm sick of being a friend.
I want to play the victim for a change.
I don't give a **** about your problems, I have my own. But I take the time to make your problems mine to help you through.
Why can't I just be my own everything?
No one can care about me the way I do, or see when something is actually wrong. But how could they? I always seem so strong. Everyday is a different suicide note that I'm too cowardly to sign.
But lord knows I'm tired of hurting, stressing, settling.
Just tell me why my hurt matters the least when I work the hardest, give the most.
If this is what all of life is like, just drop me off here.
I'm dying in a self preservation society.
There's no one left to care about me, not even me.

Always proving me right. I won't mind him though because soon enough he'll see how ****** up one can feel watching them pay more mind to someone else. I didn't interrupt him, I didn't throw one ounce of shade. i danced, I laughed, i continued my night as if he never had showed up. As if I didn't see him in my peripheral vision whispering in her ear, dancing pelvis to pelvis. nah. It wasn't worth me breaking a sweat because I know I don't want that much. I may not even want him at all. So it doesn't bother me because on the off chance that I maybe would want him, he would be ******* it up each day. Taking advantage of being cared about. It's obnoxious. I throw in the towel easily, and his cockiness does not attract me. It's amazing how someone can look so different in a matter of weeks, and now I'm not really sure what I'm seeing, but I know I'll forget about him once I've left. maybe then he'll be able to see.

Dear you,

Some people are complicated inside. They take work to be understood, like it takes work to master the courts, work to get through tough times, work to find love when you think the meaning itself has no purpose anymore. I'm here to remind you it does.

Someone once said when you need love, look to yourself and find what  you're looking for in you. Personally, I never understood how someone could find hugs, kisses, understanding, and comfort within themselves. I guess it wasn't until I'd been knocked down a few times that I started to get the point. Sometimes you are all you need.

See, that sounds weird, maybe even lonely, but when you look inside yourself, what do you see?
What are you made of? Who made you? Who got you to this point? That's where the love within you is. Find her smile.

She'll see you through.

I fell in love based on a lie. I never had to face the fact that in the end, when the ashes settled, the clouds cleared, the birds flew back north, that you wouldn't be with me. Yes you're here, but still based on a lie. When pushed against the wall, you took the easy way out. Leaving me here. My love hasn't changed. I meant every word. And I'd like to think if I was faced with the same issue maybe my love would give me the bravery to tell the whole truth. We lie to keep from hurting the ones we love. And you never really lied to me.

God presents each detail for a reason. I never question that, but I question how this will be when the lonliness fills, the hearts mend, the tears dry. But it's my loneliness, my heart, my tears. The only fear of mine is that I will regret the love I gave.

I pray that in my year of 20 I am slow to love.
Bitter it may sound, but really...
Those moments of euphoria are so deceiving

I vow to stop looking. He'll come when he is ready. Until then I will work on me. Being someone that I can love before I expect someone to do the same.

Dear old me

I'll do this for you. You remind me of how far we've come...together. I fought for us to get here and I will carry us on my back to make sure next year the new me will continue the legacy of progression.

I don't judge you, you taught me so much about what I didn't want to be that right now I feel overwhelmed with blessings to be standing here happy with how we've managed to keep it all together.

Can you believe we've been at this for 20 years now? Scares the **** out of me too. But we've done pretty good for ourselves old me. I can't wait to see what we'll continue to do.

One day I will walk past the mirror and not check to see if I've gained weight overnight. That day I will not stare at my body until it changes.
I'll come to accept my form is mine, and I'll be loved for it. I have been loved for it.

*who ever told you that you curves and lack there of weren't perfect? Why did you believe them?

"They'll ask how you lived without things, when you really lived your whole life without knowing they existed. Deprived some may say, but you've made it 20 years without it, and somehow you think it doesn't matter.

They don't really know you before this. That your childhood consisted of running through parking lots, visiting the same park and still finding it like new, now laters hot flamins, peach soda and hoping you'll get to grandmas house that weekend. Brain still being mocked by the Eric B and Rakim your dad always blasted on any road trip.

They've never been to Hampton street or seen the cars drive by with their bass booming harder than ever playing the trap music that invades your house and makes your window shake to the rhythm.

That's where I'm from.
And somehow we both ended up here in buenos aires. Although I never left the states, never made it to the big city. Never got there.
Where I'm from we're hood rich and this just doesn't happen.
Deprived they'll call us, but i never saw a frown even when we pinched pennies.

Mama explained "there are rich people, and those just making it." We always made it and I'm just glad mama got me here."

Take me where the sun don't shine, the water don't run, the money don't flow, the police don't come.

Tell me about the land where the black boy does not run, does not die, does not hang, mourns are not sung.

Sell me a dream where our magic glows as bright as the sun, although it's dark and you must use fingers and toes to find anyone.

That is the place my love will grow. In unaltered blackness.

It's hard to love a friend and lose love without feeling lost. Staring in silence wishing you could find answers to questions you're too cowardly to ask. Afraid the answer can only break you more.
i fell in love the way you fall asleep, slowly at first then all at once

Falling out, however, is a whole other battle.

And I'll never get used to hearing "I love you" each time feels like the first, and finally I can say "I love you too"

And when you say "tell me you love me, I just need to hear it" I'll always mean it. Each time meaning it more and more.

I've loved you since summer hellos and winter goodbyes.