Once again I'm staring at the wall
the only piece of you I have left.
It hurts to remember you
but it's something I have to do.
The pain feeds my darker impulses
and lets me know who I am.
I wish it wasn't like this
but wishing counts for not.
The only thing I can do
is use this pain to move on.
Through whiskey soaked nights
and wistful days
I remember
who we were
who we are
and who I wished we were.