Kind, Torn, Forgetful

What did I do to change you

You hide all the things you’ve done

How could I rearrange you

So you don’t buy a gun

I left a key on the front porch

Under the rocking chair

You used to swing, and gamble

On whether or not to care

There’s a crack on the corner of your last good pair of shades

I threw them away

In your room you’ll find options, I bought em

In case you decide to stay

Damn it, I don’t know, how to ask you

How to say the simplest things

How did you sleep? Did you sleep?

I’ll be right outside if you need me

I won’t block the door or guess your passwords, that’s a trap, you deserve better than that

But if you leave tonight, the next time I see your eyes

They might be closed

And so will mine

And I’ll be wishing I’d got that password right

Maybe you wouldn’t have died

Just come home, get sober

Put all those fears to bed

I love you, I’m louder

I hope that I’m in your head

I got nothing left

When I opened up your box

You had photos from trips, and Christmas socks

You had terrible mixtapes, long lost lovers and big mistakes

You had a cathedral shot glass, pills to make the time pass, rolled up memos on how to not lose your mind

You had keychains from younger times, I remember you as kind, torn, forgetful

You were waiting for the dust to settle

In the meantime you had Ambien

Summers came and went

Waiting for a heaven sent

Intervention, so you’d know when to flush it