The start, a memory one so far that I hold it close
Hoping if I hold it close enough that he’ll come back
thaT he will be who he was
Where I felt the most important in his life
In The way he use to look at me
The look I can no longer find no matter how hard I stare.
How did it go from calling for hours
To be if I get lucky enough to receive a call once a month
Like I was a old toy that was to used
Or A soul that was to damaged
How can you you love someone
Who u get so bored of, like you choose not to remember the start.