Im not certain yet, but my fingers feel dull

This isnt how I usually get, but my mind is unusually full

Im tracing the cracks in my pillow, hoping to find your scent

Im rummaging through boxes for that letter you sent

But the answer to “why” is what I lack

Its not that I want you back

Its just who you were, how we were

I miss our jokes, our laughter, our passion

I miss your smile, and your weird sense of fashion

But not once did I think that having you here would solve this feeling

Even if you were here, I would ask you to help me look for what I am searching

I miss the idea of you, more than you

Its might sound weird, but its true

At times I want to talk, hear your voice but that quickly fades away

Even if we were to talk, Im sure I wouldnt have any words to say

Ive never gotten over what you did, but I am over you

I can be honest, I can be real, Im glad we are through

But that doesnt dismiss the love I felt

That doesnt throw away the tears I never cried

That doesnt cushion the feelings of having died

Heartbreak in a sense, is the last human experience not tattered by society

If I tell you I feel empty, would you even try to comfort me

I dont care, those are empty questions asked to a shadow without a frame

I think I miss you, even though I have almost forgotten your name

The heart is a fickle thing

Simple memories can help it sing

Hear the years pass me by, as they drag your image with each step

Now only shattered flashes remain of the memory on how we met

But I think I miss what you stood for

Not you

NO

…

Definitely not you

Vino