I wish you had stuck around when I first learned to love the simple things in life. Or holding my hand as we crossed the street.

Although you’re around now, you’re not here at all.

I wish you’d take the time to get to know who I am, and who I want to be. How I love how the Banjo sounds in a song. That I like the smell of autumn.

How I laugh at anything, and you can hear me across the hall. And that I have dreams of being a successful artist.

But you know none of this, because you don’t stick around when things get rough. You don’t hold me like my mother did back when I could fit perfectly in her arms.

You’re always out until your blood turns into alcohol, and you can’t remember my name. Day after day, you’re slowly fading away.

Although you sometimes ask me how I am. I know they’re just words to you. Words you hear and let go when you take a drink. Falsely making promises that you never keep.

But you’ll never see me cry, for I won’t show you that side. Ill smile when you let me down. Stand on my own when you leave me once more.

And I know, I don’t need you to make myself whole.