I remember the weather the day that I met you
Sunny; with a storm in your back pocket
I remember your beauty
Vividly shone through
The tears that you knew to erase it
I was your rock
Steadfast, protruding
A cold slab for bleeding
The demons out of your soul
But after four years
You were all bled out
Dried was the well of your anguish
My only hope for us is that you do not linger as I do