I like to pretend
I no longer have a heart
but sometimes
I pull it out of the bottom drawer
and speak to it
just so it knows
that I know
its still there
and apologize
for all I have poured over it
to bury its existence
and all the times
I gave it to the undeserving
I make promises
that it will be freed again
someday
then safely tuck it away
and sneak back out of her house.

I once viewed silence
As a cruel thing
I once was scared
Of silence
Thats becuase it never
Spoke to me
Now when I sit
In my room and silence
Is all around me
It speaks
With the sound of speeding cars
Or even the sound of the breeze
It speaks to me
In ways words never could

There's an open door,
somewhere in this godforsaken empty space,
with its rusted, leaky pipes,
and stained, torn down drapes.

There's a window left cracked open too I think,
because every time I'm almost ready to go,
a breeze brushes against my cheek,
and reminds me to face what I already know.

Because just as I can't abandon this vacant place
if anything remains undone,
I also can't let go of you and me,
so let's finally finish what we've already begun.

Been laying here
All lone
Don't know why

I feel so cold
So many friends
Yet so lonely

Why are they crying
Why am I six feet under
I still have so much to live for