Of forests and bubbles and high emotions

And the little memories of you, still untainted, still sweet somewhere in my heart, they get me smiling, grinning madly, almost laughing to myself -

I'm over it, over you, but the memories are fresh as spring: the spring of that little time we had

spring in the little random things you shared with me, in the times you opened up, in the day our friendship blossomed, our texts, your expression and our little night escapade,

Oh let me live, let me live in my head,
in my secret world of joy
and the memories that bring back someone who's dead