It’s not over for me

It's been a year and I still tell the stars about:

how your laugh could seep into every crack in my bedroom walls
how your laughter could keep my bones so warm

dear stars, I can't wait to eat sticky pancakes and drink stupidly expensive hot chocolates again
I close my eyes and dream of sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, taking turns to read the goblet of fire out loud in caricature watching that grin split right across that skin

It's still not over for me, but I'm sure as hell know it's been over for you.