found via unknown
As the years have gone by, I'm sitting in this car alone, wondering why it's taken so long for me to realize that you're the one who's been driving. You pick me up when I'm crying, when I'm weak, and you don't ask questions when I begged to be taken back. You look at me worried with a heavy heart, unsure of how to fix me. It used to be irritating, like the unknown hand that wouldn't let me drink. But like always, I wake up feeling more hollow and empty than ever. Just as I wake up to cold bed sheets and wonder who is left, you open the door and smile. All I do is cry thankfully that you have not changed.
Thank you, mom.
