Nostalgia fills my bones,when i past by old park benches.
I can feel your breath, on my neck when the air blows
Nights feel empty, and the days look dark,
When i walk into a coffee shop,
I can feel the ghost of you hand entwined with mine.
At nights i try and picture what it would be like with you next to me,
but you are a memory, a ghost, you never existed. I am trying to forget,
that you were never here, but that’s like trying to forget how to breathe.
The sun has burnt up, everything is cold, i have frozen to death.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
Nostalgia fills my bones,when i past by old park benches.
I can feel your breath, on my neck when the air blows
Nights feel empty, and the days look dark,
When i walk into a coffee shop,
I can feel the ghost of you hand entwined with mine.
At nights i try and picture what it would be like with you next to me,
but you are a memory, a ghost, you never existed. I am trying to forget,
that you were never here, but that’s like trying to forget how to breathe.
The sun has burnt up, everything is cold, i have frozen to death.
