Untitled (2003-2004)

at least I got to see you smile that night

at least I got to see you cry with mom that night

she

at least you saw me ask a girl out that night

I’m shy like you and somehow found it in me

to do that that night.

at least we broke bread one last time that night

at least I saw you making your lunch that morning

I got to wipe up your last crumbs

the other day and through

a cruel veil of tears

begged god to give you back

and swore I’d never complain

about cleaning up after

your sloppy ass again.

at least you kept me awake again that night

playing your guitar outside my window

that night I asked you could you please turn it down

and now I can’t sleep because

it’s too quiet outside my

window.

it’s too quiet outside my window

and God

won’t answer

the wind scares me

and the silence of your guitar

gives birth to a pain

I’ve never known.

I didn’t say goodbye to you that night

we waved each other off that night

we took each other for granted

with our “See you at the houses” and “I’ll be fines”

I didn’t say goodbye to you that night

and here I am full of sorrow

full of tears shaking and

we weren’t that close I know I know

we were brothers but strangers sometimes too

we fought some growing up

and when we moved in together

it wasn’t supposed to work

but it did

we weren’t supposed to coexist

but we did

somehow we did