I've tried to rebuild the home you stole from me when you left. Something is always off about it. I go searching for you but it seems as though you don't want to be found. I find myself knocking on doors of abandoned buildings. I can't figure out which one of us I'm looking for. I've knocked so many times my knuckles bleed. They say to heal a wound you need to stop touching it. But I keep tracing the lines of my body in search of the last place you touched and I can't ever find it. I can't ever find you. Things are supposed to get better with time but I feel my life slipping away from me and nothing's changed. Trying to tie the loose ends of the strings you left on my heart. Each one tugs at a different memory of you and I'm trying not to just rip them all out. Every time I smell alcohol I remember the night I told you I like the taste of it on your lips. I'd rather taste it on your tongue than hear you yelling it through the phone. In my hallowed out soul I can still hear the echoes of our love bouncing off the walls.