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