Your sister started pulling her hair out
when she pulled up next to me.
I pretended the sun was in my eyes
instead of pretending she wasn't looking.
It's like licking a canker sore in the way
I'm still thinking about you every day.
When I was young, death chewed me up,
and I was swallowed by a world that I don't feel a part of anymore.
The old man stood in front of your body
and said "The lord wouldn't call you dead."
I watched your parents write him a check
and their lips when they kissed your forehead.
They kept your room exactly the same.
I'm still thinking about you every day.
Smashed that girl's pumpkins in her driveway,
and I read the note she left on your grave.
It's been 15 years.
You're the reason I'm not close to anybody.
I really think you were that "somebody."