A piece of writing I wrote out of boredom

Spring in winter

A cold winter that seems to never end
I regret the damned me who said I would forget you, the spring that is you, in this lifeless land. That vow has long since collapsed, swaying in the cold winter wind. The moon hanging on the branch rises again and again, as if to signal our farewell.
The moonlight that was soft when I was with you is now sharp, as if it were slicing me.
When I see you again, I want to tell you. There hasn't been a single day that I haven't thought of you. Every day, I've been so consumed by longing that I wished there were no tomorrow. The day I told you I'd forget you, the day I shed that cold, icy shell.
The day you left without a trace, as if I believed you, comes to mind even when I close my eyes. I hate the day I didn't hold on to you when you left like that. I loathe the day I didn't tell you honestly. I think it's foolish of me to miss you, having coldly pushed you away. But the spring that was you, once I tasted it, was too sweet for me to refuse. I knew it was more than I deserved, but I wanted and yearned for more. I loved you so much, but I didn't have the courage to protect you. In a place as cold and harsh as this winter, I couldn't place the spring that was you, nor did I have the courage to protect it.