I didn't know you were an addict.
I just thought you were happy all the time. I just thought that since you were always with me I was your source of happiness, but I never quite stopped to see what was going on behind your eyes. And now I realize the saying is true.
The lights are on but ain't nobody home.
I used to feel happy when I thought about all the places you took me to. But now I feel like I should have been terrified because you were drunk all the time. It still hurts to admit it because I want to tell myself you didn't feel the need to rely on alcohol to be happy. I want to tell myself you didn't get in the car knowing you were struggling to stay on your feet and I didn't have my carseat. I want to tell myself Christmas was just presents and not pitstops in random gas stations so you could vomit your heart out.
I want to tell myself I wouldn't have died have a dozen times.
I want to tell myself you're just you and I could be happy that that's that. I want you to just be you. I want you to just smile at me and have the smile meet your eyes.
Sometimes I wish you could have gone off it for a day or two.
Maybe that way you'd remember what I told you the day before and I don't have to feel like I've been dreaming these past seventeen years. Sometimes I just wish I had pictures of you that didn't make you look drowsy.
I wanted you there on my graduation day because of who you are. I've put myself through hell and back to be better than what you've shown me. These last few months I want it all to pay off. I used to want you there on graduation day before you left. I even still wanted you there after you ended up in jail for being so hooked.
I could smell alcohol from a mile away. And I feel like I'll grow to hate anyone who does what you did. I will never enjoy those college parties with red solo cups. I will never sip a glass of wine in a vanilla-scented bath tub. I will never have fun champagne at on my wedding day.
I constantly dread seeing you now. Because now I see how nobody is home.
And I keep knocking.
YOU ARE READING
houses with better views: poetry
Poetrydo you ever wonder what's going on inside? like genuinely, besides the inner monologue? the way your heart pumps, the way your arteries are the taxi drivers of your life, and your bones move you to where you need to go. there's a lot to wonder and s...
