I like to wrap myself in the warm shield of your pillow
and overwhelm my pores with your scent
and your grace
I want you to stay around
but my slumber is having me cling to you
to stay safe

and I'm afraid I'm running you away

I saw you last year this time
I can't believe I was the last person of my family to see you
I can't believe I never saw the letter
I can't believe your belt was your last way out
I can't believe the way I cried at your funeral
I can't believe that I chain smoked outside
and saw so many of my mothers and fathers
as they all hunched over to cry

I just remember loving you dearly
watching you dance for sobriety
and win
and I remember the photos of mom in her old salon
your hair was so big
well, that was the 80s
and I'm sad I didn't live it with you
I can't believe I was the last person to see you
I can't believe you killed yourself
I still can't believe it
So I'll visit your tree in Piedmont Park
and think of all the things I can believe

dish soap soaked rags ripening my skin
as my hands dry out and ache for moisture

an ache for love pruning my skin
as my heart drys out and aches for moisture

I remember waking up to screaming
to loud tvs and sometimes old hip hop playing on our sound system
the lightened heavy twang of country from my old radio being smothered
I could hear you cussing and throwing dishes in the sink

I could hear your heavy sighs and your angry tone under your breath
and I remember waking ***** up to feel comfortable again
I remember crawling in her bed because she was the only place I was safe
and I remember when you threw the gasoline in his eyes
when we were locked out of the house

I remember coming home to an empty house, scared and tired
and screaming at ***** because I needed to take it out on someone
because god forbid me from taking it out on you
and now you want to be my friend
because you can't be a mother

and ***** is off in her new life and we stick together
under the heated lamp of the pressure you still put on both of us
and the other afternoon I woke up again to you slamming a door
and throwing your bags around
and huffing and shouting to yourself
but this time you thought you were alone

maybe that's where you're safest
alone

but now you'll take it all out on her
your mania will worsen through the years
I'll leave, I've left
and you blame me for your misery
but you hide it some days
so I leave you alone
because that's where you're safest

it's easier to lie to myself and say
I'm not falling in love
because it scares me so badly
it's easier to fall out

I'm just a bear cub
following your ways
to see what's okay

I want it to last
like a hurricane of love
in a drought of loneliness

secluded buildings branch our ways
like center parts
and subways

like taxi cabs full of compliments
homeless people full from harvest
books stacked high next to a fan

a tone that reminds me that you
are calling my name
like a terror erased by your care

a print out of your work
next to a scrap copy of my own
a wall full of canvas

you just fill me in

and I like you like a paved street
an empty hallway
and a hall pass

and I want you like a refresher from Starbucks
a new scarf
and used books

and I like you like a full battery
a new musical in theaters
a book that we share

and I want you like thick mascara
a new haircut
and change

so stick around

you ran me over with your ways
I'm ill over the treatment you find to be endearing
leave it to you to think I owe you a **** thing
I'm buying the first plane ticket out of the world you live in
I don't owe you anything

I'm just going to leave you behind