My love is an antique

It grows old and gains rust
Sitting on a shelf, idly gathering dust

It withers and decays
Slowly trading it's vibrant color for grey

But it will not die
It stands; crumbling before your eyes

It loses it's strength, but never it's essence
Existing for you in eternal evanescence

I hope she has your hazel eyes
That glisten with wonder under the moon and the night sky

I hope she has your smile
That makes all the tears seem worthwhile

I hope she has all your dreams and your aspirations
And that when I’m with her I feel a familiar sensation

I hope she tastes like cherry cola against my lips
And that it feels like I’m holding the world in my palms when my hands are on her hips

I hope she isn’t afraid of anything except loneliness and the dark
And is a perfect reflection of you, down to every curve and birthmark

Because I know you’ll never again say you love me too
So, I’m willing to settle for someone else, if they’re just like you