One Last Time

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Sometimes the sky is gray, and sometimes the sky is blue. Often times it is black. When i look up into that deep dark canvas of nothing splattered with stars, all i can see is you. But i hated you. For a while, i was glad you were gone. I was so happy not to have you patronize me any more. You would'nt decieve my mother into giving you money, you would'nt sleep on my bed, forcing me to occupy the hard floor. You would'nt stay up all night, watching tv, unable to sleep until you came off your high that you so desperately needed, and, thank god, you would'nt be in my life any more.

But now, all i can see is you. Mom has a boyfriend. she's moving into a nicer apartment. Her job is paying well and she acts like you never happened. I should be happy you're gone, but there is such a lack of closure. With open arms, we took you off of the streets, and into our home. You spit in our face. My face. I wish you would come back, for one last time. I'm scared, though, of what would happen if you did.

Created: Apr 05, 2014


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