Crooked teeth, knobby knees, and a chemical dependency bound you to me when you were relapsing again and I still carried those capsules in my pockets, my deepest secret only to be shared on days when it was too rainy to stay dry. You always said that storms put unsafe thoughts inside your head and when winter comes you'll feel like you're already dead but until then I'll be your best friend, I'll be your slaughter disguised as savior and I'll tell you things like "trust me, it only hurts a little" and "believe me, it gets easier." I swear I would have turned you inside out if you'd have let me. Thank god you stayed away.
i'm so sorry i really am but i am too afraid to do this alone
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