I'm having trouble explaining the gravity of hard goodbyes under streetlights by an old suburban home.
I wanted to make you my home, but God wouldn't let me.
I'm attempting to form a truce between my old self and you but you won't let me.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Turn your back on me and I'll find hope in the past in forgotten nights that we hold on to like razor sharp knives.
Just cut me loose.
Last week you called me on the phone.
You said things were going great at school.
You've made so many new friends.
I didn't have the heart to tell you.
That I want the way that it was more than the way that it is because the way that it is has me finding comfort in the idea that there's still hope I can grasp onto the former days.
I don't wanna let go of you.
I don't wanna wait forever.
Please don't make me wait forever because I don't know how much longer I can.
I'm losing the safety I had back then.
Oh, why did you have to leave me?