I would love to invite you in, but I'm not so sure you'd be able to take the solitude. Your soft pleads soon became distant background noises, I would drown you out with the bottle in my hands. Winter left you cold and numb, you went away. Soon I became the one pleading for you, and it was much too late. You left a ghost behind that I can't bare the sight of anymore. I should've let you in instead of pushing you out.