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12 Decembers
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Lovelorn
I'm so tired of calling your phone You don't pick up even when you're at home A trip up the stairs and a hollow knock Look at the floor as you fiddle with the lock There you emerge, breaking my stare Your gaze as cold as your apartment's air 'You look great, did you do something with your hair?' A heavy sigh reminds me I shouldn't be here
(I awaken) (Lovelorn and forsaken)
Intuitions of a life long-lost so often Greatest fear of a life long-lost, forgotten I know that I can't do this on my own Your broken glass falls too close to my soul
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