You saved me, you know? From the fighting and the arguing. The late night liquor runs and the drugged up loving. I grew up in that house; the one filled with screams, a shaking roof, and broken glass. So when you came into my life, I didn't think you were real. Or maybe I just thought you were an angel. But whatever it was, I knew that I had a savior. A protector. You were my salvation.
Then one brutal winter night, when they were drunk and screaming at the top of their lungs and damning hell, you were nowhere to be found. My savior was gone. It was then I realized that maybe I was your pet project or just something to fill the empty void in your life. Whichever was more egotistically life shattering and pathetic. So as I sit here at three in the morning, trying to salvage the wreckage of a lost-cause family, I can't help but wonder what you're doing. Maybe moving onto your next project or just ignoring the weight that brought you down in the first place. Whichever one it is, just know that I was over you before you even came into my life.