I’m older now so I try to forget

But I get flashbacks

Of the every weekend endless parties

The music the drinking the smoke the laughter

The audible hell that was

The garage

The pretend family that was

Us

Me walking in to play you a song before bed

Which would turn into

You drunkenly doing your best at showing me how

To play Satie’s Première Gymnopédie


Which would end in me wondering how to say goodnight

While you would cry silently about nothing

On my shoulder.

I’m older now so you think I’d forget

But I remember

The first birthday you had after your brother died when

You downed a bottle or three in the span of an hour or two

I went upstairs to make sure you were okay

Only to find your friends had carried you from

The garage to your bed

Which made for the most perfect

Stumbling distance

Any drunk could ever imagine.

I’m older now so I pretend to forget

But the memories crumble with clarity at night

You, opening the bottle at five and passing out at one or two in the morning

Only coming in the house to **** and eat and banter

Oh, the endless banter

I had fun with messing with your mind and playing with your words

When you were gone

As you so often were, every night of my

Entire span of pretending to blossom. I never knew who you were going to be -

“Your dad is a drug addict you know. He’s not perfect either. What are you staring at?”

“Oh baby, you’re so brilliant. You know that?! You’re brilliant!”

“I miss him so much. I’m so so sad and lonely…”

“It’s not all about you, you know. Don’t let it go to your head.”

I learned how to be a numb construction worker,

Constantly working on the foundation of the walls

I was building to protect myself from you.

I’m older now so you’d think I’d forget,

You’d think the memories would fade with each passing year

You’d think the wounds would have healed by now,

You’d think I could call myself a strong young woman.

But I can’t, I’m tormented by remembering, I’m haunted still

I am a ghost

The voices yell at me, tell me to throw in the towel already,

Get rid of everything what a waste of space. They sound like you.

Sometimes I miss it, I miss the hell that was living with you.

I miss the consistency, the predictable time-frame in which I could depend

On you to be emotionally unavailable. When I close my eyes, I can still see

Your silhouette swaying in the hallway, your hand fumbling for the light switch

The demon that would come out of your mouth every time I said

I love you.

But I’m older now, I try to forget.

I half succeed in daylight

But the memories crumble with clarity at night

The memories crumble with clarity at night.