I see desolation stapled across all of my dreams
and wake up every day to a life that’s no different, it seems.
There’s no black and white here, just shades of gray,
a collage of all the pieces that broke off and fell away.

What have I become in their absence?
And where do I go from here?
The apprehension in your voice paints no illusions, it’s clear
that you don’t have the answers, do you?
I thought not, my dear.

I’ve thrown myself around this wretched rock
a thousand times in your name,
traversed this sphere just trying to forget it
and still wound up the ******* same.

Now these bones are all I have left
and I would exchange them
for you to put your head upon my chest
and hear the silence you created.