It's 2:30 on a Sabbath afternoon

And I know you don't know it.

I have some time to kill right now.

And I wish I could kill it with a phone call to you.

It's 9:30 where you would have been.

And I would have called

And listenend to you complain

About how you couldn't sleep

Or how you can't walk around on your own.

I wish it could be ten years ago

When you would pick me up from school

And go get a Klondike or a Frosty

Even though you really shouldn't have.

But I'm not eight.

I'm eighteen.

And four months ago when Dad called

I didn't talk to you.

And i'll hate myself forever for that.

Because the last time you called me I was sick

And I couldn't pick up.

And then I was too afraid to.

And I know you'll forgive me someday

But I'm sorry now.

And I just wish I could call

And listen to your voice.

That voice that would always love me

And never be angry at me.

Because even though you're not here anymore

I still have your number in my phone.

And I want to call.

But I won't.

Because it won't be you.