On my first night alone, my shoulders relaxed. On my sexond night, I saw it wasn’t so bad.

You say it’s my fault you’re sleeping at your dad’s,

But really I couldn’t care less.

Before you left, I tip-toed on glass,

Couldn’t be too loud, or I’d wake your wrath,

Or too quiet, or you’d call me a dork.

Now I’m sleeping on clouds through the night

So thank you, Alicia, for the scars,

And of course, what you wanted to hear:

I apologize

For not leaving sooner!