That one Monday morning you didn’t show up to school
I waited for you.
I missed half of first period when I realized
You weren’t coming.
In the twenty six minutes I wasn’t in math
Numbers actually made sense to everyone.
Except me and you.

That one Monday morning you didn’t show up to school
I tried to text you.
I wanted to know where you were
But right before I could get to your contact
Bobby Fullerton texted me back.
You weren’t there to freak out with me so
I left my dream boy on read.
We both knew I wouldn’t get through
That conversation without you.

That one Monday morning you didn’t show up to school
I needed to borrow a pen.
I had to write a five page English essay
About my ambitions for the future.
Since I couldn’t write, I thought about it alot
But I still came up with nothing.
I figured I’d ask you about your thoughts tomorrow.

That one Monday afternoon you didn’t show up to school
I needed to borrow a pencil.
The school set up an assembly on how to get your
Life together before you head to college.
In the forty four minutes the assembly lasted
Life seemed to be figured out for everyone.
Except me and you.

That one Monday afternoon you didn’t show up to school
I needed a ride home.
My mom was out of town for the week
And my dad was working late that night.
I had no other option, so I walked.
It was raining.
I hoped I didn’t get sick.

That one Monday afternoon you didn’t show up to school
Your mom was crying.
The ring of my landline reverberated
Through the empty air of my home.
It was warning me of the news I was about to receive.
You were gone.

That one Monday morning you didn’t show up to school
You weren’t planning on coming back.
While I was whining the day away
You were counting how many pills
You thought would be enough to get the job done.
You decided on eight
Because that was your favorite number.

That one Monday morning you didn’t show up to school
I was alone.
You were hurting.
And I had no clue, no inkling
Of what you were going through.