I drove with mom an hour and a half North to see you
And I could be wrong
But you don't look the same as you used to
It's been too long
Eleven weeks seventeen hours away
I tell you you're strong
And I hope that it cuts through the decay
You said you're rotting out from the inside
Today
I sent you a postcard
With a present tucked into the envelope
I know it's so hard
But a little Nag Champa might help you cope
Honestly from the front yard
The house doesn't look occupied
Get up close and I see the shards
Of the glass broken in and the wood rotting out from the inside