when when when

when i was younger

we would play monopoly

in the late-afternoon sun

on the greasy table

and make ramen and grilled cheese

and the old dog would lay at my feet

and i still see those days

in my head, so often still

and i wonder if you remember them, too

or if you were drunk then

and can’t recall my laughter

or our little jokes

and my bones feel too tight

at the thought of this

and my hands begin to hurt

and my heart burns like it’s on fire

and i feel like if i don’t cry i’ll just explode

and i feel like if i don’t let go that i might lose myself

but i doubt you’d know how that feels

and even if you did

we still couldn’t relate

not like we used to

(if we even did)

’cause the sun comes up

and you smile and nod your head

until the rain comes along

and you retreat to a crowded house

of memories

to forget about your sorrows and mistakes

in a bottle of beer

with a tall glass raised,

you make jokes

and i hand out empty smiles,

hope to forget

how it used to be,

only so i might let go of you

because of what it‘s become now

forget it all and wish

we could relate

like we used to

(but even then—)

(did we ever)

so i do my best

to blend myself away when

you’re around

(find i’ve bled on the walls)

(and you don’t even notice the drip)

(but all the others do)

and i

can’t breathe when you’re around,

can’t talk like we used to,

can’t hide my rain like

i used to

and i wish

that i could forget

all of the good times

where you were probably drunk

or high or whatever you might have been

so that you can’t remember

the little jokes

and the sound of our laughter

and the way things used to be

and the way things’ve turned out now

i wish i could forget it all

like you forgot me

(so easily)

(without remorse)

(without a care)

(without even a goodbye)

(i’m bleeding on everyone else)

(just trying to keep you close)

(so now i’ve got)

(to let you go,)

(to let you go,)

(to let you go)