It's funny.
I feel like your little kid again.
Waiting for you to come home even when you never did.
I've been checking my email constantly for the past two days.
Cause you have no money for a phone.
Which worries me.
It took me 22 years to finally be mad at you.
Only about a month to forgive you...again.
So here I am for the millionth time.
I'm holding an illusion of hope and promises.
I love you and I hate you.
I want you to write back, but it'd be better if you didn't.
When it comes to you, I'm still that same child.
The same child that waited for you on those many Christmas mornings but you never showed up.
There's one thing that brings me back to you.
The thought of losing you.
She lost her mother. I lost mine.
Though she can't find her mother like I can.
To find you, then lose you again.
That's all I ask.
Till the day one of us dies.
No comments:
Post a Comment