That feeling full of life has stopped breathing. I walk down narrow streets waiting for the rain to fix me. But the streetlights only show what's left of me. And your name is a ghost tapping on my car window. The grey ink of time covered everything. The footnotes with words of love are gone. I won't pretend that I am healed. I just bleed in silence now. Your winter coat rots in my backseat. A museum of things you discarded so easily. Today's newspapers talk about the end of the world. But my world already ended in your living room. The grey ink of time covered everything. The footnotes with words of love are gone. I won't pretend that I am healed. I just bleed in silence now. Don't you dare send me postcards about moving on. The past is the only place I was ever tolerated. Everything is grey. The letters, the pavement, the memory of your mouth. Driving in the opposite direction. Loathing the time.
