I realized why I can't write about you.
It's not because I have writers block or because I can't find the words but rather it's because there are some things, some people, that are so special that ink and paper do not do them justice. And so you'll live on in my veins. And your voice will whisper my name but only in my thoughts and your laughter will fill my dreams and your smile will be the sun. You're more than poetry. And I'll remember you as the constellations in the night sky and in the summer breeze. I'll remember. I'll remember you.
