I'm so tired of calling your phone
You don't pick up even when you're at home
A trip up the stairs and a hollow knock
Look at the floor as you fiddle with the lock
There you emerge breaking my stare
Your gaze as cold as your apartment's air
"You look great, did you do something with your hair?"
A heavy sigh reminds me i shouldn't be here
Intuitions of a life long lost so often
Greatest fear of a life long lost forgotten
I know that i can't do this on my own
Your broken glass falls too close to my soul