I pray you never forget the look of a sunset in June.
I hope when you close your eyes you see all those exploding oranges pinks and reds overhead.
I pray you always remember the way your mom made coffee for you every morning and how shed make enough for you and for her to have two cups;
one while she waited for you to wake up and a second for a morning conversation with you.
She really loves you.
I pray that when you close your eyes you sometimes imagine you’re back there in the dark of your bedroom back home. Even in pitch blackness, I hope if still feels like home to you.
I pray you always remember the way it felt to be surrounded by your closest friends under the football lights in our town. I hope that deep maroon reminds you of your deep love for this place, as much as it broke your spirit.
I pray every time you see a round roll of hay in a field you think of home,
your true home.
I pray you remember how it felt to be known.
Really known.
To have someone who knows what your past is and intricate parts of your life and loves you all the more for them.
Because every piece of you is important.
I pray you never forget that time you wanted to be my friend.
And I wanted to be yours.
I pray you remember the way that felt. I know I will.
I pray you always know that under the same stars, thousands of miles away, in a sleepy country town in the south, someone still loves you.
After all this time, you’ve still got me.
And I pray I’ve still got you.
snowghoul
gracieabrams
vaporwave
2087
