You were the one who stood up
on top of moving cars years ago.
You were free,
careless and happy.
You were unafraid of death.

That's why I liked you,
but you're gone now
and I miss you already.

I will remember you
for the rest of my life,
when I can't sleep,
or when my mind wanders,
whether it's at
midnight or noon.

I never asked
for anyone to
bend over
backwards
or make sure
that I was okay.

I never asked
for the creaking
floorboards that
keep me awake
as I toss and turn
at night.

I never
wanted to be
stricken by the
fear that I can
never let go.

But I will.

Because I
never wanted
to hold on
in the first
place
and I never
wanted
a reason to
complain.

I never asked to
    be drunk;
    I planned
    on it.

The moonlight
shining in from
my fourth story
window
is fading
from the rim
of my glass,
so I can't
see what exactly
lies in front of me.

Making my way to
the bed so I can
rest once again
has become more
of a chore than
a peaceful thought.

We're a generation
of bad habits
and hypocrites
that'll do whatever
it takes to be happy;
whatever it takes
to supposedly
remain free.                
        
         Because
         the truth is;
                  we're all addicted
                 to something.

And   we     let       it       get
       the    best    of      us

They taught her
Not to believe
The sweet nothings
Boys would tell her.
"I would do anything for you."
"You mean the world to me!"
"Oh, darling, I love you so much."

For they were all lies.

Little did they know
That she, too,
Would never believe those lies.
In fact,
She was the one
Who told them.