white. a pile of bones buried deep underground. i dont really remember you that well before illness destroyed you and that makes me feel ashamed and guilty. i barely visit you. i make excuses not to, just like i do for everything else in life. they say people too pure for this world get taken first. i would do anything for another minute with you.
i miss you mom.
i pray we meet again someday and we can tell eachother everything we missed.