The empty walls reveal this home's nakedness
It's quiet, it's simple
It's bare and desolate
It's a man who's lost his identity
Lost the entities of himself
So fragile, yet nothing to break
So burnable, yet nothing combustible
So emotional, yet quite stoic
I walk to the places where we once made love
Where I once painted my nails
Where I slept under the stars
Where you cared for me in sickness
Where we lived
White noise
Where nothing is heard, and what's heard means nothing
I'm small in a big place, one that means nothing anymore
But I feel this a folly, because I know that it means everything
To me
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 10:21 PM UTC
The empty walls reveal this home's nakedness
It's quiet, it's simple
It's bare and desolate
It's a man who's lost his identity
Lost the entities of himself
So fragile, yet nothing to break
So burnable, yet nothing combustible
So emotional, yet quite stoic
I walk to the places where we once made love
Where I once painted my nails
Where I slept under the stars
Where you cared for me in sickness
Where we lived
White noise
Where nothing is heard, and what's heard means nothing
I'm small in a big place, one that means nothing anymore
But I feel this a folly, because I know that it means everything
To me
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