jrrain

it's been sixteen years of up and down of best friends buried in the ground. we spent a few good summers here under the sun in the mountain air, a few good summers full of laughter and young lives ending even faster. all the souls we thought were free have ended in catastrophe. but in the end the tragedy is not who died but who survived. those who live die every day living for those who've gone away. we saw the ends of others and it wiped our names out of the sand. some wear scars and some wear smiles some went cold after a while. we've grown up and dreams have died turned to smoke in the midnight sky.