When You Were Sober

I saw you outside for the first time in a while
You stopped me on sight
I was so shocked I couldn’t smile
With your typical sneer you came nearer to me
You tried to act coy but I could see what you were doing

You said:
I haven’t seen you in years
It’s as if you disappeared
I just wish you knew how much I loved you
When you were sober

Feelings rot where you once walked all over me
Clear as day I was in your way but I thought I could stay
I’m sick of the head buzz, sick of the withdrawal
Sick of reaching for a touch for it to be withdrawn

My cynicism permeates my intentions
Hearing utterances of your good riddance

You said:
It isn’t the same
It isn’t the same as when you were sober
You had me over, held me as the world went under
When you were sober
You loved me better—I almost believed in you
Now it’s all over and I don’t know how to be your friend

Are we our holiest preconsciousness?
Is ignorance truly bliss?
Was it divinity or my naivety that abandoned me?

When we fell out of touch
I searched for any rush
Cause I could never stay clean, baby

And in the witching hour
When I look in the mirror
Your words forever echo

“I wish you knew how much I loved you when you were sober”