Kind, Torn, Forgetful

What did I do to change you
You hide all the things you’ve done
How could I rearrange you
So you don’t buy a gun

I left a key on the front porch
Under the rocking chair
You used to swing, and gamble
On whether or not to care
There’s a crack on the corner of your last good pair of shades
I threw them away
In your room you’ll find options, I bought em
In case you decide to stay

Damn it, I don’t know, how to ask you
How to say the simplest things
How did you sleep? Did you sleep?
I’ll be right outside if you need me
I won’t block the door or guess your passwords, that’s a trap, you deserve better than that
But if you leave tonight, the next time I see your eyes
They might be closed
And so will mine
And I’ll be wishing I’d got that password right
Maybe you wouldn’t have died

Just come home, get sober
Put all those fears to bed
I love you, I’m louder
I hope that I’m in your head
I got nothing left

When I opened up your box
You had photos from trips, and Christmas socks
You had terrible mixtapes, long lost lovers and big mistakes
You had a cathedral shot glass, pills to make the time pass, rolled up memos on how to not lose your mind
You had keychains from younger times, I remember you as kind, torn, forgetful
You were waiting for the dust to settle
In the meantime you had Ambien
Summers came and went
Waiting for a heaven sent
Intervention, so you’d know when to flush it