Thunderstorm.

I started to write, but words were hard to come by. Sleep and time may make tangible the sound I can't seem to grasp. Until then, I know those I could hurt, the same that I refuse to. I know who I love, the same that I comfort when they fall on hard times. I know who I need, and who needs me if I have nothing but an eye's blink of energy left to spare.

I wish you knew everything you left behind. I wish you knew everyone who was and is willing to help. I wish everyone who has now come out of the woodwork would've found their way to your shoulder before your breath found its way to heaven.

Mostly I just wish you found the happiness you were always smiling so hard to make real. You deserve nothing less, with sources as unending as those that fell blind. You deserve a ray of sun; direct it through this rain and light up this tear-stained ground with the colors of your hair. I believe you wandered, much like we were slated to on that coveted day of teenage oblivion, until you found the perfect seat, fixed on a view of every turn of that race that's soon to set in motion. A boy who loved Nascar and hated the hometown football team, spitting personality behind shyness. A bird and a mantra, your fair share of height: these oversaw countless ventures of restlessness. This country could've been yours with minimal cash and a trusty ride.

As I sing along to the artist you could always track down, it's hard to ward of the double edge sword. But the only sunshine you could see continues to shine. Blistered, but slowly creeping up on better, full of hope, the only place to go to will that you found home. That sunshine rose far earlier than preference to a room filled with concern. Shocked, but strong, raining as strands of light lingered in plain sight.

I don't care what you say, sunshine. The thunderstorms and bats may color conversation, but your light is blinding. You wake up in the face of doom, and fall asleep still filled with reasons to shine. You live everyday with a passion that may not even be immediate to your own mind, but everyone that you shine on loves you at first sight. You color their skin with casual smiles and an impossible to counterfeited persona. You leave everyone you touch positive.

I know you're a piece of my smile. I have plenty to lend for the countless you've let me borrow when you find them hard to come by. To me, the sunshine will always capture you.

My lungs are dust as I try to scream the extent of what you mean to me.

Never know anything for certain in the face of another. The one that's meant to steal your heart will do so in disguise, until your unguarded emotion allows them to strip every preconceived notion of what it is to love.

Substance Free.

My dreaming never got me this far.

I've always been one to project a path before reaching its starting point; there's something reassuring in knowing what to expect. I've strayed fro my careful planning, past the paths I carefully marked from start to finish, to dirt-worn paths overgrown with thickets. I'm wading, unable to see. My trust lies in intuition, and strangely, excitement courses through every inch of my skin. For once, I'm not in control. For once, I know what it is to throw away tedious plans and accept suggestions.

My muscles grow increasingly lax inversely with strength. My lungs don't strain when I break a sweat; it's good to feel healthy from surface to sensation. Who knew kicking excess and sweaty basement machinery would line me up with the best? I don't color my eyes with clashing reds and greens; my mind is sound. A decline of substance leaves me with nothing to abuse. Life is hard to tarnish when poison remains at bay. I've been leaving my rags aside with nothing to polish. It's hard to hold back the smile constantly playing at my lips, so I don't.

I'll miss everything about this place.