Before you died I didn't see your worth
You protected me, and loved me through my almost fatal birth
When I was four you were addicted and sobriety was rare
As I got older I was angry, and by angry I mean scared

I couldn't understand why you were so empty
They say you'd been that way since your cousin died when you were twenty
You always said that you were sorry for not being good enough
Eventually I understood that it wasn't your fault, and love was often rough

When you died I was certain I had lost my mind
I was bombarded by people telling me "It's okay to cry"
as if that were the answer to all my desperate pleas and prayers
I will admit that above everything I had never been so scared

When I closed my eyes visions of you haunted me
I tried to tell myself you were better now, happy, free
I slept with the lights on for days having realized my own mortality
This is a terrifying epiphany to have at seventeen

After you died we planned two funerals
You always swore you had no friends, but they were both packed
It didn't seem fair to endure your fathers funeral twice
I was poked and prodded, offered condolences by people trying to be nice

Eventually I got the nerve to walk to the podium and speak
I told them how you promised to always love me, before choking on my grief
I spoke of when you held my hand, and tucked me in some nights
Then went on to say it was not fair to take my fathers life

I still dream about you constantly
that there was some fluke and you never actually left me
Everything is alright until I wake up to find,
That you're three years lost, you're gone, you died.