My dear, you sit complacent as your house is set aflame.
As I bite my nails in worried wonder, you wonder who to blame.
Love the answer’s right in front of you. It’s written on the wall.
And though I can’t quite see right through it, I know you can see it all.
You say she’s just a victim, out of pity, but you’re right.
Because you were never innocent. You had a match in hand that night.
I know you miss its absence like a sheet misses its ghost.
The hole it left inside you was the vault that you miss most.
I’ve been around your block, but keep my arm outstretched at least.
My palm can block your firebomb. My eyes can fight your beast.
I used to think that I should sob for all the love you lost,
But you flushed it down the toilet with the remains of your lover’s ghost.
Child, you can hide the evidence, but it’s written on your face.
You hate the monster you’ve become, and blur the dreams you chase.
I know you hate to hear the phrase, “It’s time to act your age,” but you’re thirteen,
and if I’m watching you, I should get paid.
Kid you’re not a kid no more, so please get off my back.
Maybe when you learn to walk upright, you’ll face the lonely fact that
You never had me and you never knew me. You don’t exist, so you didn’t ever lose me.
You can’t be happy unless you choose to be. We don’t exist, so you didn’t ever lose me.