Forty days have passed and I still think about you every night
As I lay down in my bed
As I lay down with my thoughts
Forty days have passed and I don’t wear black everyday
But I feel that shade inside
Plain and simple
Dark and lonely
There’s nothing I can do to change it
You’re gone and that’s permanent
The finality is jarring
Forty days have passed but every night I close my eyes and see them throw dirt over you
My heart sinks and lowers down my rib cage echoing your coffin
I know that wasn’t you, you left us already by then
Yet why does my mind keep returning to that scene
Forty days have passed but Cyprus doesn’t feel quite like home anymore
Neither does London.
Forty days have passed and I keep finding my eyes stinging and breath escaping
I don’t know what to do, I don’t think any of the family know what to do now you’re gone
I suppose just carry on
Forty days have passed and my black clothes mean nothing to these people or my friends but you know and so do I
Every night I look at those constellations you pointed with one hand and the other holding your cigarette
When I see the stars shine
It’s your sign
Six months have passed and I know you’re here but I can’t bring myself to take off this black just yet
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 8:10 PM UTC
Forty days have passed and I still think about you every night
As I lay down in my bed
As I lay down with my thoughts
Forty days have passed and I don’t wear black everyday
But I feel that shade inside
Plain and simple
Dark and lonely
There’s nothing I can do to change it
You’re gone and that’s permanent
The finality is jarring
Forty days have passed but every night I close my eyes and see them throw dirt over you
My heart sinks and lowers down my rib cage echoing your coffin
I know that wasn’t you, you left us already by then
Yet why does my mind keep returning to that scene
Forty days have passed but Cyprus doesn’t feel quite like home anymore
Neither does London.
Forty days have passed and I keep finding my eyes stinging and breath escaping
I don’t know what to do, I don’t think any of the family know what to do now you’re gone
I suppose just carry on
Forty days have passed and my black clothes mean nothing to these people or my friends but you know and so do I
Every night I look at those constellations you pointed with one hand and the other holding your cigarette
When I see the stars shine
It’s your sign
Six months have passed and I know you’re here but I can’t bring myself to take off this black just yet