Green Eyes.

I read into every word of yours as I skim the lines you unravel to. One count scared, two counts irritated, five counts love. I think I know one small thing that could aid the bleakness you write to, but I don't know if you'd oblige. Something to do with less green and more yellow. I heard an old song today, and with a few tweaks, it could be yours. Ain't no sunshine when she's gone. She's gone from you, and you need to sun to light up your eyes. Nights spent in cluttered cars packed with confused kids waiting to be saved by a haze. I'm guilty, but growing restless. It's not my medicine anymore.

Although it's knocked due to its overuse in PSAs and mommy's warnings, you lost your care when you gained an affinity. My line of sight is filled with the faces I've come to love and the way they distort through click button-lit fog. You used to shine so bright. There's no easy way to blame the life of the party, but I'm calling it out. The people I bide my time with chase their nose-stinging troubles away in sweet smelling papers. Watermelon wraps around an unkind nature of its own. It's easy to laugh when your echo reaches your ears. Comic relief, late night digs, too many calories, ghost medians, and unending railroads. I've made some memories I'm not about to wish away within a specially altered mindset.

Take the good with the bad, wish for improvement but work at it slowly. I'm just fine, and I love you no less. I miss high times being less literal, but most of all, I just miss you. No matter how lost you feel, I promise I'd cut my way through any mess to find you. I don't want you to forget that you have me. I swallow second rate when I see how much he means to you, but I know your priorities are set and unwavering, and you don't play favorites. We don't have to agree on everything to be content. Sixty miles north is nothing. I'm always going to mean it when I say I'll be your best friend forever.

There are far too many stoplights we have yet to see.