I remember when I was 14,

And you said you wanted to die.

I went home and began to cry,

When I tried to help, you pushed me away.

But when I was 17, you told me not to cry,

And helped me when my world fell apart.

I thought you hated me,

until that day when you told me not to die.

 

I remember when I was 14,

And I never ate a thing, 

because I wanted to be pretty

But then you told me to eat,

Because you were worried about me.

So I did.

And now that I’m 17

you still remind me that it’s bad not to eat,

because you remember how I was at 14.

 

I remember when I was 15,

It was the first time you saw me cry.

I’d lost someone dear to me,

it was suicide. And you held me.

And once when I was 17,

and you’d seen me cry hundreds of times,

I uttered that word, it had been a thought of mine,

you sat and held me while I cried,

because that was better than saying goodbye.

 

But I also remember when I was 16,

And no one was there,

except for you.

It was like I was 14 again,

And you didn’t want to say goodbye,

or when I was 15,

and you hated to see me cry.