you were whispers in the wind. you were smiles in the sun's rays.
you were songs in the clouds. you were laughter in the stars.
you were, you were, you were.

you are fading into a fond memory. you are becoming a smirk hidden
in the grass as it goes from green to brown. you are turning into a soft
laugh whenever someone sings to me. you are being remembered
through locks of brown hair that are not yours.
you are, you are, you are.

one thing remains the same:
you were not mine; you are not mine.

AN: tristan. i would like to see you again. it's been a full year, and yet i still think of you so fondly. so frequently.