The softness of your skin still itches at my fingertips
And your scent never seems to leave these sheets
How silly of me—to think you’d keep your promise
How silly of me—to think you’d ever return
Your thoughts are of another now, I’m not dumb
I still can’t help but wonder, what you’d look like right now
In this silent house that needs your voice
In this empty bed that needs your warmth
I know the tears I cry won’t be enough
And the words I write will never reach you
Lips sewn shut with screams that will never surface
A smile painted on and good humor forged
I know you can see behind my mask
Even though you convince yourself that I’m happy