To the cancer that took my friend:
She was full of light before you came along. Positivity radiated through her, and extended to anyone who was lucky enough to be illuminated by her presence. There are very few people in this world blessed with a truly pure, genuine soul, and she was one of them.
But then you wormed your way into her brain, and you built your home. You trespassed upon her body and took what wasn't yours. I watched helplessly as her hair withered away and her body deteriorated in your aftermath. The treatments battled as fiercely as they could, but your weapons were stronger.
The day you stole the last breath from her lips was the day I learned that death isn't fair. It robbed a seventeen year old girl of a bright future, robbed her parents of a daughter, and robbed the world of a beacon of light. I learned that no matter how hard anyone begged for her back, you would not release her from your cruel grasp.
To the cancer that took my friend:
You may have stolen her body, but you did not succeed in erasing her completely. I see her in the rays of sunlight that shine down on the field where we all stood after she died. I see her in the wind that rustles the grass on the field where she once guarded our goalpost. I see her in my memories because no matter how hard you tried, you could not make her fully disappear.
And you never will.
To donate to the Hannah Metzler Fund please visit http://hannahmetzler.org/?page_id=44 .
sunrise
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bonfire friends
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sadness
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purple skies
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