By the time you vanish
I'm already getting used
To your absence
And to the hole in my heart
Which only grows.
As you begin to disconnect,
I feel a part of me fading,
Until there's only my silhouette left.
And I wonder...
How many times can a person
Die and resurrect
With the same body - in the same life?
How many times can we
Give our hearts and souls to others
In exchange of suffering
Until we close ourselves forever?
I guess I'm only tired of losing myself
On everyone who goes away.
