I Would Never Abandon You
When I was young I told myself I would never drink.
I saw the darkness it sparked in my grandpas eyes, saw my grandma cry at her birthday dinner.
When I was a child I thought everything was in black and white. Everything was determined by the two sides of a coin.
I think if my younger self saw me now she would cry.
Maybe lock herself away in the same bedroom I was locked in during my grandmas birthday.
She wouldn't understand why I drink, or smoke, or sometimes place myself in dangerous situations. She wouldn't understand the lines on my friends thighs or the feel of smoke down the back of your throat.
If my younger self saw me right now, Im not sure if she would recognize this body.
It is a little beaten up around the edges and I have a few unnecessary bruises, my eyes are almost always tired and I stare into space a lot.
She might not recognize my short hair or my clothes,
But I hope she recognizes my eyes.
I think they still hold their spark. They still change colors in the light. They are still mine.
And whether they shine when I get a new toy, or take a shot,
They are still mine.
She is still mine.