Gentel Breeze

The flag gently sways in the gentle crisp breeze. If the wind was to be harsh the flag would crack, it wouldn't sway but be pushed. The flags gradient carrier, holds it sturdy as it sways, as it is pushed. 1

The crisp gentle breeze glides across my face chapping it, freezing it, turning my face a sharp pink. It glides across my lips that I proceed to lick to keep them moist. The wind dries the saliva chapping my lips leaving my lips Rosy. The breeze runs it's fingers through my hair, it stings the back of my neck. My hair brushes in front of my eyes for a still second. I see you standing there with "i love you" written all over your face. My hair is blown back to where it usually rests and you're still there, starring. I slowly glide across the gravel making my way to you only to find you no longer there. I think my eyes have deceived me. The crisp gentle breeze isn't so gentle striking now, it throws me, i hear the wood of the trees cracking from being so still and frozen.2

I toss and turn only to wake upon the floor of my abandoned bedroom. I'm no longer so full of life as i once was knowing that you will never be mine.3