I remember when you use to call. Phone calls to a person who shouldn't have hung on your words. but when the right thing is played the part by an idiot, hoping for something real there's routine.
Late nights in my bed, sitting staring at the alarm clock's simple red numbers, hating to have to wake up in the morning. to act like I wasn't up all night drinking cheap brandy and pretending that there would be a call that I'd have act sober for.
Took a while for me to stop acting like that. It was a change that had to happen, But there are still some nights I reminisce about that desire and hearing some kind of warmth in a voice speaking only to me... My gem.
The cheap brandy got to expensive after a while, the price to pay just to feel some sickness wasn't worth it. to live in that memory wasn't letting me live by day or night.
It was about some days after nights I couldn't move...
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