You told me you would never drink to get drunk because you saw how it made your grandmothers marriage fall apart and your dad always yelled loudest with a beer in his hand.
You didn’t want to forget life because I made it beautiful.
Maybe you forgot that now that you’re getting drunk every weekend.
You told me that life was worth more than sitting around clutching a bottle of whiskey because you had seen what it did to people and I know your mom was ***** but that makes no difference to why she would have a different voice when speaking after one drink.
You can’t make all the excuses for her anymore.
I’m not listening.
Maybe you forgot the time she screamed at me so much I cried.
You held me close on the way home whispering
“she didn’t mean it, it’s just the alcohol speaking in her voice”
I wonder if you’re proud of those pictures of you with ping pong ***** and half naked girls but I would think if you were you would post them yourself and not tell Alex to.
The light has left your eyes and even though your mouth is smiling your mind is lost.
Maybe you forgot all you promised me
I wonder where the boy I loved went

probably lost himself in the alcohol on those saturday nights

just like his parents did