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.