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You tell me you’re too busy-

to talk

to listen

to be there.

Too much school,

too much work.

I say “I understand.” but inside I know-

you think I don’t

I do.

You’re not working or doing things for school

you are not doing something productive.

I know where you are-

up in the sky,

twisting,

twirling,

soaring.

You are praying you’ll never come back down

never have to face the demon lifting you up.

This time I will not turn a blind eye

I will not just ignore the problem.

You’ve become a better person on more than a few occasions

you’ve given up your vices too many times to count

you’ve changed so many times I’ve lost track.

Don’t lie-

I know you better than you think

you’ll never change

you don’t want to give it up

you don’t want to face reality

you want to keep your crutch.

And still, I feel as I am the one to blame.