I feel nothing when you talk to me.
I've cut you out of my heart
It was slow and it stung.
Now you're just a sensitive scar

I feel nothing when you look at me.
Just dried up butterflies
Who flap their wings
one last time
Before they crumble to
ash in the pit of my
stomach

I don't feel for you like I used to.
You gave the fatal blow to us
But I finished the job.
Was it ****** or was it just lust?
I don't think we know the difference.