It only takes a few minutes to realise they're really gone. This isn't a song with a chorus. It's a moment, one you try to sit through, hoping it unbreaks itself. For anyone who's ever waited too long to speak, or stayed still just a little too long. [Intro] [Verse 1 – Min 1–2] I turned the cup to where your mouth had been. Steam’s gone. I didn't drink it. Your side of the table’s clean— not wiped, just... cleared. The hallway light is off. You never leave it off. I think I heard the stairs at 2:13, but I didn’t check. [Verse 2 – Min 3–4] A car passed by — I thought it might be you. I froze halfway to the door. The porch light flickered once — then stayed dark. I sat back down. My hand was shaking. I told myself I’d only stood to stretch. [Verse 3 – Min 4–5] I moved your glass—just to prove I wasn’t staring at it. I put it back. You took your charger. I thought you left it. I don’t know why that made me sad. [Verse 4 – Min 6–7] I checked my phone. Nothing new. Typed your name. Deleted it. You always said I think too much. Right now, I think you’re right. [Verse 5 – Min 8–9] I made the bed. Halfway through. Stopped when I reached your side. The air feels heavy. My arms feel slow. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. [Verse 6 – Min 10–11] The glass clinked. I set it down. It felt too loud. I opened the window. Closed it again. I hate the silence more than the wind. [Verse 7 – Min 12–13] I said your name—just to hear it. No one heard. Not even me. It sounded wrong in this quiet room. Like something stolen or half asleep. [Verse 8 - Min 14-16] The mirror’s fogged. I haven’t showered. But still—it’s there. I drew a line down the center pane. One side’s blank. The other’s blurred. [Outro - Min 17] If I open the door, will you still be there? If I call your name, will I break again? I haven’t moved. I haven’t tried. It’s been seventeen minutes. And I still don’t know why...
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