You don't know how much it hurt
When you came home collapsing.
Words slurred together into a sentence,
At least that's what I think it was.
You stumbled like a baby taking its first steps,
With a naive and innocent grin,
But I can tell your breath smells of sin.
You slam the door behind you,
I jump in surprise,
While you laugh stupidly, with glossy eyes.
I watch as my mother fusses about,
I do my best to no think out loud.
She basically carries you,
A cadaver with no function,
To the restroom to handle your body's eruption.
I sit silently, cowering on the couch,
The retching heard through the house.
A command is issued from the echoing hall,
I stand and follow, and watch your downfall.
The cure is made, or so I thought.
You just threw it up.
My mother apologizes for you,
But there is nothing she can do.
My question is will you?
The disappointment settles in, as tears wish to stain my cheeks.
I doubt that you'll remember that you began to slam the cabinets,
While you laughed idiotically,
A violent action for someone so normally calm.
You don't know the sadness I felt,
Nor the disappointment that flooded my mind,
I was so ready to see you for more than five minutes,
But you weren't in your mind.
You won't know the fear I felt,
But I think that to you it is like a game.
I hold the phone close because I am afraid.
I am afraid of you,
What you could do.
You won't remember the fact that I didn't sleep,
That I checked on you,
When you stopped snoring to see if you were breathing.
No I don't think you will remember,
But each time it happens I can't forget.
But I don't think that it is something you'll regret.
It will simply become something you'll forget.
I look at you body laying on the floor,
The emotions flooding through a broken door.
All those memories, all the fun,
All those moments replaced by one.
Here I write on the verge of tears,
Feeling betrayed, disappointed,
I blame your state to my return home,
Since you were sober before.
You sought comfort in your friends,
And forgot about me,
So you set out to drink.
What will you remember when the sun rises?
What will you remember, and what will you not?
Will you apologize,
Or go on like it's all okay?
I won't care because it will haunt me every day.
Now before I go to sleep I will be left to wonder,
What are you doing?
Are you out working,
Are you out drinking,
Even the occasional smoking?
I'll be left to worry every night,
And pray that you'll make it home alright.