Over 40 hours a week, every day of the week at a therapeutic boarding school, and I have to come home to this shit?
We were teammates. Now all I hear is the crack of a can and all I see is a hollow shell, a shadow of a person who used to feel like home.
You are standing, swaying in front of me, but all I can say is I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.
I have been waiting with open arms. You hold my heart in your shaking hands.