I have bunches of nothing, broken stars, gray scales.
I have future storms, dark words that grow here.
I have an empty house, your pictures spy on me, they laugh at me.
I have a portable hell, I hate myself for being fragile.
I break without you.
I have that enemy love, I have pain and oblivion.
I have your name, and even though I don't want to, it lives with me.
I have my dreams stored, my collection of tornadoes.
While you live in my future, I am the past.
I have crumbs of life, silence without a rhyme and the soul of a bishop.
I have the skin of a soldier after a war, with no truce, with no end.
I have emptiness in my soul that fills nothing.
I get lost without you.
I have a closed door that never opens, I die without you.
I have that enemy love, I have pain and oblivion.
I have your name, and even though I don't want to, it lives with me.
I have my dreams stored, my collection of tornadoes.
While you live in my future, I am the past.
I have your name, and even though I don't want to, it lives with me.
I have my dreams stored, my collection of tornadoes.
While you live in my future, I am the past.