Trying to find rare people in this world's generation is like trying to find a book in a library of blank pages

It rains.
A truffled scent
glitters
in dead leaves,
naked trees.
Transudation
into the depths
of the night.

When you remember me, please remember my smile.
When you remember me, think of the way I laughed.
When you remember me, remember the way my hair looked in the morning.  
Don’t remember my cuts or scars, I’m not ashamed that I cut, but you are.
I want you to remember me running through the sprinkler or making silly faces underwater.
I want you to remember me wearing miss-matched socks.
I want you to know how much I loved you, because I really do.
I’m sorry if you are reading this, I didn’t want you to live a day without me there with you.
I want you to know it’s ok if you find someone else to love, someone you can make love with.
Someone who does your laundry like I did.
I want you to find someone who likes mint chocolate chip ice cream as much as we did.

He's got an eye for storms so he walks right in
A Bible in one hand
And in the other a sin
Torn between who he wants to be
With everyone else pushing and prodding
He doesn't know who to believe
He's the guy at the party with the drink in his hand
Rambling about how guilty he is
But drinking as much as he can

A walking contradiction
A Bible in one hand
And in the other a sin
He can't feel the world around him
So he tears himself apart just searching
For anything that means something
A word or a song or a remedy
A book or a person or just maybe
An identity

I'm not so great
At being strong
And I'm not the best
At fighting back,
But give me a reason,
Love,
Give me a reason.

I've lived through things
That break most men,
And I've seen things
Much too dark
And gruesome
For eyes so wide.

But I'd live through it
A thousand times
Over again
To hold your hand.

And I'm not one for risking myself,
But I'd risk it all,
To be by your side.

And if your being happy
Meant watching hellfire eat away
At parts of me
Which I never really even claimed to have,
Then let the fire burn away at my flesh.

But luckily enough,
Your being happy means running my fingers through your hair,
And scratching your head as you fall asleep on my lap.

And luckily enough,
Being yours doesn't mean going through hell and back,
But it rather means the warmth of the heavens,
And the light I've never known myself to have.

I'm not much for sunshine,
But if you were a ray of sun,
And it was overcast,
I'd bask in your warmth
For all eternity.

I'm not one for rainstorms.
But if you were a rain drop,
And it were drizzling,
I'd beg for a downpour.