i thought it was over.

when my mom skipped town i thought it was over

it was the last day of eight grade and the sun was hot on my back

and i was about to go to a friends house for the night when she looked at me and said

she was leaving, it wasn't safe here.

baby i love you, people are coming to hurt me.

when my mom's dad died she thought it was over

she was thirty-nine or fourty-three or something along those lines

he'd slept every night in our living room where

the smell of cocaine was high and

the walls were plastered with art of us

he had always wanted to be cremated but the rabbi said three days

three days for us to get him in the ground

when my mom called me i thought it was over

it was the october of freshman year

and i had cut and died my hair and she said

baby honey, blueberry pie

meet me at the market

when she came running up to me i almost couldnt recognize

she looked the same as she always had,

straw hat, big brown eyes in a sundress

she had a bag of things she'd stolen for me, makeup, dior, hello kitty

but mostly childrens toys

and to the plant lady she said this is my baby, isnt she beautiful

and then she cried when she saw the cops and she ran away from me it was like

she didn't even recognise my voice when i told her to stop

when my mom moved away i thought it was over

she sent me a video, her in ottowa

she had a cat sir murder-mittens

and she seemed just fine almost like

she didn't recogise the fact i was moving on

nowadays my mom texts me and says

baby, you better've not smoked any weed

today, i think it's over.

nowadays there's only grief

but it's never over

you keep on living.