A New Shell

Folder: 
Notes on Love

This house is empty

Without you here

The walls whisper your name

They call for you

They miss your back against them

Covered in sweat and tongue

Each drop puncuated by your moans

 

And I swear

The next person that says "I'm sorry,"

Is gonna get a face full of fist

Sorry doesn't bring you back

It doesn't repair the hole in my chest

It just squeezes the wound

Pulling the blood forth

It just makes it worse

 

And this mental deteriation

Is only part of life

But it doesn't shake the dead feeling

That nums my fingers and brain

There's nothing else I need

But you

 

So out of the darkness

I'll make my home

A shell of blackness

To call my own

And if anyone comes knockin

I won't answer

It might be you

And I don't think opening up

Is worth the risk

Of seeing your pretty face

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