You couldn't tear me apart
Couldn't block my sunshine
If all I have left is my happiness
Then I still have everything.

You couldn't break me
Couldn't fold my wings
I fly away from your black hole
You couldn't **** me in.

It's not about the letters, calls or late nights
You kept me chained in your basement
But I broke free of your hold
My freedom is your silence.

My light may have faded
But out of your shadows I shine
I am everything bright
Darkness can't touch me now.

Her breath is wasted
Thinking she's teaching us well.
I hear blah blah blah.

The shift feels longer
As the hour grows later
Unremarkable.

*******,
I'm done.

You text me
When you're drunk
At the bar
Looking for a ride home.

And I reply
Because you're drunk
And texting me
And I know what that means.

So I get on my shoes
And get in my car
And pick you up
Because you're drunk.

I take you to your late-night fast food
And back to your house
And I go inside
Because you're drunk.

I like you
When you're drunk

You smile
And laugh
And kiss me
When you're drunk.

You pull my hair
And hold me close
And love me
When you're drunk.

I get to stay the night
And hear you talk about the future
And I'm happy
When you're drunk.

I love you
But I have a hard time
Liking you
Except when you're drunk.

And maybe it will **** me
Spending my life
Waiting for a man
Who's only around at night

But I can't leave
Because somewhere inside of you
Is a man that I love
Except that he's drunk.

Noun.
The mother of ones father or mother. (mother)
Elderly. (Died December 28, 2011)
Kind. Sweet. Gentle. (If there is a paradise, she is there.)
Bright. Thoughtful. (She made me a Snoopy apron one year for Christmas.)
Loving. (She raised 6 kids, took care of her husband for 55 years, and always made waffles for breakfast when grand-kids came to visit.)
Loved. (by all who knew her)
Missed. (by just as many)
Survived. (1 husband, 6 kids, 4 grandkids, many friends.)