the blond hair and brown eyes we share, pulse wildly form my old photo.
his burnt face, from long ago, is blurry to the point of normality.
his straight-toothed grin says he's happy, but the lines under his eyes say he has seen his demons.
this, we also share.
the light aluminates his figure, and the space surrounding him.
blue curtains reach down to touch blue wall paint, two different shades that oddly match, helping the black sweater hanging from his tough frame stand out.

the man i used to know no longer looks this happy. his demons cought up to him and led him to a hole. there he sleeps in his shell, waiting for the day when he can leave that hell.
the blond hair and brown eyes we sare, no longer look the same.
but in this photo they still pulse wildly.
up close you can see the burns on his face, but the picture is blurry and he looks normal to me.
his straight-toothed grin has sagged a bit, but one day he will smile again.

gone downhill in a world of torment, his hard work goes un-noticed.
he's worn out and tired; yet he keeps going.
he's a man of strength and loyalty and will forever be that way to me.
in my old photo, i will remember how much he's been through.

and if no one else decides to care, i would want him to know that i will always be there.
i will always remember how he was back then.