One

I suppose you're supposed to feel honored when you write these kinds of things, that you're privileged.

I've heard everything isn't supposed to stop, that you're meant to keep moving, using your legs movement to keep pace. But what if your pace stops?

Through wreckage appears beauty and nothing can ever stop for a memory that will live on.

You're existence is gone, an existence which was finished with a peaceful mourning.

A person has gone a person with an attractive and engaging personality. Typically, one uses this to impress or manipulate others. Apart from you, you were a charmer that charmed so unintentionally.

Everyone loved you, even if they didn't know you. You deserve to know everyone has read all about you. About your beautiful smile, your beautiful heart.

You were a rock. In between hard places, eroding away when your mind tailed off to new adventures. I made a friend that supported me through a situation I didn't know I had the strength to get through, to hear you say you were happy for me are words I will never have the pleasure of giving back to you.

I think it's still a shock, something nobody is quite sure how to get used to, waiting for someone to admit they've taken a sick joke too far.

Everyone takes on situations differently, especially mourning. I've personally gone from wanting to talk about it to just checking on other people. I want them to talk at me so I don't have to think.

Inside there's a boat, struggling on the sea from an uneasy tide. People filming the tide coming in but not witnessing what is being washed away.

Instead of looking down, looking through a screen, look to the sky. Sometimes, in situations like these, you'll see a star, one so bright you can discover the strength from inside you to reminisce on times you've had.

There was something so bright in your eyes, so bright in your soul.

Another piece of my heart has opened up for you, to keep you here forever. One piece to represent your resting in peace.

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