Good Mornin', Mournin'
Papa.
Even the sun mourns you.
But I bet the coffee is better where you are.
Pt. 1
The two of us in a truck, in a classic car, in my car when you got too tired to drive. You always let me be me, and I let you be yourself, brave and battered, an alchemist, a survivor.
The dirt roads rolled out before us, we drove them with the windows down, Crimson and Clover crackling through old speakers, dust billowing in, and the west Texas skies turned to stare at us with rain in its eyes.
Pt.2
I love that dragon fruit became your favorite fruit before you left this planet. I never left. I'm still walking back and forth between the checkered kitchen floor and the blue carpet in your room. Bringing your meds and those cookies you like. I'm going through the channels, looking for a Columbo episode, or something with antiques or old cars.
Pt.3
I thought I'd gone with you the night you left.
Remember?? We both flew past the pain and leapt with joy at our escape!! But you leapt out of my reach, and I waited for days for you to realize I wasn't with you, and I knew you'd come back for me.
This way I could start breathing again, start using my voice again. But I lose you everyday, over and over.
I'm still here.
I'm still here.
I'm still here.
And I'll never leave you again.
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