Elly Grey

The fragrance of my perfume  wants to linger in your soul.

 He says 'Good morning' And with that comes some quick words. I shouldn't reply.  Because with 'Good morning' there's always an end that'll come in the form of 'Goodnight'.  And then I miss him,  until his next 'Good morning'  and I hold each word until his 'Good night'. 

 We'll sit here one day, You and I. And talk about the snow and the sky. We will want to say so much but we won't. Because all around us will be silence ... Of the sky and snow.

 Love is to be lost in time. Stopped in a moment. Contained in a memory forever.

 His hand holding mine, my step in time with his.  He could take me anywhere  and I'd happily go,  as long as I'm with him.

 Are we born with wings,  Or do we earn them? Do they sprout from within us  because of our goodness?  Do they gain strength from  what we've been through?  Or do they disintegrate like the wings of Icarus?  Do they display our resilience?  Are they so easily clipped  because someone couldn't handle our light?

Read into the mistreatment?  As yes, I get it now.  I didn't see the signs.