One day, when you had made up your mind
When you had given up on your grandfather's graveyard of broken down cars
When you decided I had been alone long enough to burn myself out
You vanished.

Mother was the voice in your head promising that nothing would be easy
Our sister is the one telling you to get a running start
And I was whispering, "Be careful," but I've watched you
I can promise that you never heard me

My coat was still in my hand as I walked out of school
My hand meant to throw it around my shoulders and zip it up
It was freezing
My hand forgot

I keep telling myself that she killed you
But I know that isn't true.
I know your soul got all mixed around, made some wrong turns
It isn't fair to believe that she loved you.
Believing that she understood all of the cracks in your skin just like I did hurts worse than the spot on my couch you don't take up anymore

The last time I saw you, you were buried in some sort of library
Some sort of maze you built around yourself so you wouldn't have to escape
I left you
But I can't help imagining someone dropped a cigarette,
Your mind ignited and fell to ashes

I hate you, because this was not a love story.