They say that when you lose an arm
Or a leg
Or a hand
Or a foot
You can still feel it there
That your brain is so used to having it there
That it can't conceive the fact that it's gone
So you still try to grasp for things
Before you you realize that you don't have a hand to grasp with

I'd always wondered how soul-crushing it must feel
To just forget it's not there anymore, because it still feels
so real, so there
And then have to be forced to realize all over again that it's gone

But you aren't there anymore
Half of my soul, of my body, of my heart, of me is with you
My heart is so used to having you there
That it can't conceive the fact that you're gone
I reach and you're not there

*You're My Phantom Limb

let's play a game
where i call it love
and you call it something else

both of us losing while we win
you call it beauty
and i call it sin

we pretend always is the same as today
but 'us' and 'forever' go their separate ways