Last time I saw him he was saying "I will always love you."
Last time I saw him he was holding my hand.
Last time I saw him he smelled of cologne.
Last time, he touched my heart.
This time she is saying "I love you so much."
This time, she is kissing my cheek.
This time, she smells of perfume.
This time, she is touching my soul.

Why is it so hard?
He wants to be set free.
He feels trapped.
And I,
I hold the key,
To his prison.

I wasn't falling asleep.
My eyes closed must have looked like  it.
I was listening to your voice
Out of pitch, graining against the original voices.

She watched him sleep just for a moment before she turned over in the bed. She noted how peaceful he looked; his eye lids fluttered and his breathing steady. His limp body told her he wasn’t going to wake up soon. So she lay there, contemplating getting up and making the both of them coffee. Her fingers reached up and touched the necklace he had given her. She loved him, but she dare not say it. That was a phrase none of them had uttered to each other before. Even after this past month, she dare not ruin his peace.

Only in his car
Do I feel this way
My future lies before me
Urging me to stay.
Listening to his music
Thinking about my past
Begging for value
Should I go back?

Can a heart really shatter?
Can you physically drop it and watch it break into a million pieces?
We use hearts as metaphors
We unite the words "heart and soul"
When ancient Egyptians believed any "feeling" belonged to the liver
Because the liver is closer to the hormones

Can a heart really shatter?
Is it that fragile that we have to put a sign spelled out in our eyes that says "handle with care"
A heart is a metaphor for all the years my heart has palpitated
All the times my heart just drops in exhaustion

I can't tell you if a heart really shatters.
But I know what it feels like when it beats so hard and it hurts
It aches
It throbs
It breaks

In my waking hours
You're not there.
You're never there.
No matter how loud I call
No matter how much I scream for you
You're never there.
In my waking hours
You're somewhere else.
In a grocery store perhaps
Or screaming for me
In your waking hours.

Asleep, you're next to me
Under that apple tree
In that field
Asleep you are here, always.