Why does the smell of my own room
remind me of you?
Is that why I was so desperate to leave for good?
Why my parents say "it's so ****
good to see you."

"I still look to see if he's smoking out the back."
My father's unshed tears roll out
and I try and catch them with nothing to catch.
No hands to hold out, even,
I gave up holding out.

There's so many things to get over.
I feel like my happiness has run out;
in my dreams I ask you
"am I dreaming?" and you argue no -
but I know - and pinch myself to prove it.

And when I wake up it's not over.
I've been waiting for so long because
I know it will get better,
but when and how long will it last?