2 years ago1,000+ Views
I hear the hack of your tar filled lungs The coffee mug I filled to high that I spill in the steps I see the dining room table with you sitting next to me the first batch of brownies I ever made I smell tobacco of the pal mals you always smoked the Italian hoagies we ate together as we talked I feel the warm hugs I always gave you the icy feeling of the last one I see the blood stain on the living room carpet the endless romance library in your room I hear your snoring and the phrase you always said to me "your a good egg Charlie"