Cloudy Days Are The Good Days

Summer happened twice before he dared to voice feelings he hoped I'd dig up on my own. How could I? All my shovels are rusting in the garage. I don't go digging anymore because I'm always expecting poudretteite and end up with diamonds. He's worried he'll vanish, but how could I forget those eyes?And though his fingers were never meant to fit in mine, I hold his hand.

He's perfect for all the wrong reasons.Strength was never known to be so solid inside a tattered soul.

He's determined to shine, but little does he know the world around him is growing dim and collecting dust. The doors are closing and the keys hang on necklaces found in trinket shops. And though he won't say, he knows his heart is becoming an abandoned house with rickety stairs and boarded windows. Even the sun is reluctant to shine where hope is losing it's army.

But the stars remind him he can tear down the walls and walk away from the desolate town the freeway no longer has an exit for.

Three autumns passed before I told him I'd trade his world for mine if it could make him smile a little longer. I haven't heard him laugh for months but I've heard his words cry. And I'd like to be the sunlight that brings that back, but thirty minutes in the car is starting to feel worlds away.