j

“Every tear I shed I wish it could come from your eyes instead; how cruel it is to know every smile I wear should’ve adorned your face. The sun felt dimmer when you left, the skies were no longer blue, the flowers went scentless. You put a mute on life, a weight that I cannot carry any further. My dearest brother, I will follow you now to that place where you are. The only guarantee is that I will be with you once more, cold or warm, bright or dark, wherever the cold took you: I will follow. As I write this, I know mother weeps, and little brother sheds tears, and wishes those tears would come from my eyes once more,
The last ;”
― .j.