that day in December
my roughest trip started
i remember how we met
i sat there quiet
you moved closer and said
my name was pretty
you left but promised me
next year again
and i waited for 365 days
but you never showed up

until 3 months later
and you almost forgotten
but i sparked your interest
November was the best,
when you first held my hand
and never had i ever felt so safe

little did i know that was the last month
we'd ever meet
and i would be hanging on for
193 days
on a feeble rope of hope
losing grip of myself
while you slowly forgot
how i felt against your hands

the rope snapped then,
but i knew
i was free,
from the difficult mountain of you
i did hurt and bruise when i fell
but those scars only proved to show
i am standing stronger
ready for the next adventure of life