Your mouth is too full of the words you're about to say to swallow what I'm telling you. Your ears are too blocked with the sounds of what you think you're hearing to listen to my desperate cry for help. Your eyes are too clouded by what you want to see to be able to perceive what you've done. You're oblivious; can't you see you're killing me? I love you.

society: be yourself

society: no, not  *like that

This morning,
I lost an earring.
Last year,
I lost you.

And you're not around now,
You won't see me graduate.
And you're not here,
So you wouldn't know how much I miss you.

And sometimes I wonder if it's better,
If those childhood stories about Heaven are true,
If you've gotten your memories back,
Your happiness back.

And I know that we had good times,
That plastic teacups were more important
Than plastic chairs bolted down
In uncomfortable hospital waiting rooms.

But maybe I'm being selfish,
Wanting you to be here with me.
Maybe I should be grateful that I even knew you,
That I had the honor to call you Pappy.

And I'll always miss your thick glasses.
And I'll always miss the way you sang just because you felt like singing.
And I'll always miss how you laughed.
And I'll always miss you.

And this morning,
I lost an earring.
But at least I can find it later,
Sitting on the bathroom sink.

How did we get here
where vitamin water turned into ***** and the power of innocence changed to the courage of
alcohol. The boys no longer opening car doors and the girls trading in t-shirts for crop tops that show off
what they were or weren’t wearing.
Where sneaking a soda after dinner turned into hiding a flask at the family party where we used to play games
like hip-scotch and dodge ball instead of drinking hard whisky and Jack.
The promises made in the D.A.R.E. program about not doing drugs or drinking
were traded in for drunk driving and “just one hit.”
How did we get here
where grape juice turned into white wine and a nervous kiss under the bleachers
at the Friday football game moved to steaming up the windows in the back seat of that car
at the party on Saturday night.
The knocking on your neighbor’s door for them to come out and play moved to texting
in the driveway and hanging out means sitting on your phone
while sitting on the couch next to someone else.
How did we get here,
where root beer turned to Busch lite and being home before dark
switched to struggling to be home before the sun came up.
The parents not knowing their innocent children are making children and kids being too drunk to remember
they promised to go to Church on Sunday morning.
Where asking for forgiveness overpowered asking for permission and sorrys turned into whiskey shots
and make up ***.
How did we get here
with a drink in one hand and the other around my waist while you lean into me too drunk
to stand on your own.
This is the first time we’ve spoken since that day last June and I can’t help but notice why.
How did we get here
where the power of innocence changed to the courage from alcohol?

In the darkness of day
And the light of night
I'll talk to the stars
And listen to the whispers of the wind

As my vision blurs
And time becomes distorted
I'll dance under the eyes of the moon
And sing to the clouds
I'll chase the sun as it sets on the horizon
And as I run I'll get lost in the rush of colors all around

In the depths of white
And the shallows of black
Where the asphalt meets the sidewalk
meets the grass
I'll lay
And stare up at the trees
who'll stare back down at me
We'll have a staring contest
Untill finally I fall asleep