Seven Years

Even though time heals all,

January is the saddest month above all.

Seven New Year's.

Seven cold, dark winters.

Seven days of each heartbreaking, soul-crushing, devastating week.

And somehow,

Even though there is a world between us.

I still find myself mourning,

The month that once defined us.

Several years have passed,

Our lives in a completely different turn.

You'll always be the better part of my past,

But when January comes,

I rekindle our fire just feel it burn.