How many love poems do I have to write in hopeless silent nights remembering you?
Or the dreams and hopes I had for us?
Does it burn inside your soul to hear my name or see my face or do I just wish I meant that much to you?
When did it come to this?
No longer caring to hold your name on my tongue.
This was over when it started.
When I wondered where you'd find yourself each night, hoping it might be with me.
Thinking you are just the fix I need, though I'm not so sure anymore.
It's just so bittersweet to be alone once more.
