Words don't really do you justice, do they?
Eyes like a cat,
the shade I'd imagine when the characters in my books had green eyes,
and skin almost as pale as Snow White's.
But innocence,
such as Snow White's,
is something you never had.
Your soul,
beaten down as a child
by a father who didn't know how to love.
We met in fifth grade,
when you were simple,
I was new,
and the world was infinite.
You're not simple anymore.
You're more complex that the universe itself.
You have entire worlds behind your eyelids,
but they're shrouded in darkness.
I'm not new anymore.
I'm getting older, mature, experienced.
I have lived through your lies
and survived your surroundings.
The world isn't infinite anymore.
It's very limited.
It has seen us grow and drift apart.
But despite our changes,
you are always there.