You're coloured green like a healing bruise, never in full effect of the pain you harboured. Do you twist your thoughts out of reach purposely, or is this lack of emotion only drawn from the nature of a digital age?
I don't know, and wont until I grasp your soft hands, long limbed with fingers I've learned the habits of by now.
How long has it been sice I've held that hand? Less than 365 days and more than a life time. I count them three.two.one.
I am changed, but not concerned. You will love me, as you do, as you always have, and you will be the same, but different.
No longer swollen and plum with childish sorrow. You'll accept your jealousy.
Tune your anger to a fading, sickly green.