Waking up in a place I know
Really just the house next door.
Eating a bit of food I bought
From moneys saved for survival.
It’s been three days since I’ve been back home.
She doesn’t care or hug
And almost never says she loves me.
I’m going to go back just one more time
I’ll tell her that I’m leaving.
Hi mom, I came back, to get my stuff
I just wanted you to know, I can’t stand it here
I’m moving out for good
And I’m not telling you where I’m going.
You disrespectful, self absorbed ungrateful druggie brat
Go on, move out, take your stuff and go
And by the way where is that report card you’ve been hiding
You know what, never mind I’m done I’m through and I just don’t care anymore.
Brandon took out all his clothes,
But he left them in the woods.
He lit a blunt he had rolled up
He was just hoping to stop crying.
He tied a rope around his neck
And he climbed up a sturdy tree.
He secured the rope around a branch.
And he let himself fall free.
The last thing he had said to me was “I’ll see you…
In loving memory of Brandon Nicholas Eza.