Never loud enough to cover it up or make it stop
Nothing to pull back a sense of memory
Only an outage and a withdrawal
A need for something that keeps itself busy
Keeps itself from me
I hate everything
My friends and my dependency
My words and my sympathy
To know without seeing or the act of breathing
I don't know who we are, we speak for hours
Coming to my house unannounced and unspoken for
We sing for hours
I love everything. You smile at me
You sleep on the phone, I feel left alone and encased in amber
You find me in them. I feel fine
I don't know who I am
I trace my fingers around the curve of your...
To see an angel close its wings
To open up again close in on myself
I feel nothing when i wake up
I let you remind me what its like
And why i hold so closely to this
A͓̗̼͉̫̟͙̲̯̤̗ͅn̟̗̲̘͚̹͉̦̰ͅd̯̮̜̻͈̳̱͔͍̘ ̮̘͖̹̰͕̲̥͕̞͙͖̩͓͇̗̞̫ͅl̩̲̜̞̗̼̪̗̝̠̥̦̮̻̩̝͓̖̝e̪̦̲͍͖̱̫̭̠̦̮̦̻͕̱ͅͅt̥̫̼̖̯͈̜ ͕͙̠̰̯̗̲̜̟̩̣͎̙͔͔g̖̰̣͎̬̱̜̳͇o̮̘̖̩͍̝̲̪̹͙͇͙̞̠̫ ͕̻͓̺̪̯̰̞o̯̱̰̤̝̭̜̲̳͇̙̪̖͇̹̟f̖̰̞̞̬̠̪͙͇ ̣̦̥̗̝̣̜̺̘̗̰̪̣͖̬̻̲̥e̞̠͎͈̙̬͙̫̱̞͕̹̗v͓̳͈̼͚͈̜͙͓̯͉̻e͔̰̤̯̮̜̳̭͎͇̝̮͚r̥̞̲͖̫͎̤̖͙͔͈͚͕̼͎̩̪̼y̫̩͕͕͓͈̼̹̣̬̹t̼̦͙̘̹ͅh͈͈̩̫̲̜̱̲͚̻̗̯͖i̹̯̦͕͇̙̫̥̼̹̙̮̥̥ͅn̪̜̯͈̟̣̘̳̘͈g̣̖̙͙ͅ ͈̲̪͈͚̞͕͖̫̮͍̲̞̲̬e̝̹̠͕͔̟l͚͖͇͇͉͚͉̲̥̳̘͚̳͉s̼̺͕͉̙̝̪̥̫̼̳e̫̹̫̣̳͓̘̣̤
̥̪̙̜̜̲̳̲̫̪͍̫̖͔̝i̳͍̘̗̩̺̳ ̹̦̗̩ͅl̺̠̟͕̳e̻̱̟̻͍̝͖̲͍̞͔̝͔t̤̮̣̯͙̠̭̳̞͖͍ ̺̥̠̪͎͓̫̞̣̩̰g͚̮͈̳̬̟͚̹̫̗͖̱͙͔̭o̥̼̺̥̱ ̙̘͚̖͙̟͉̤̻͚̙͍͚̹̜̟ͅo̖̫̹̠̖͉̫̥̣̲̪̬f̪͓̹̺̞͙̩̜̬̠ ̣̳̜̱̩̺̭͇̝͎̮͈ͅe̜͎͙̣͙͚̰̘͖̬̥̠̞͍v͙̮̝̦̣͖̻̬̠̝͎̫ͅe̤̖̩̦̜͇͔̲͍̥͔̜͓̼͇r̠͕̟͕̹̳̟͔͉y̯͎̦̣̱̤̻̫o̖̪͔̺͚͔̗̝̩̜n͍̟̗̠̼̘͓̫̦̮̻̙͖̦̺ͅͅe̤̪̥̹̻̙̠̩͕̗̱͇̜̥̣ ͔͕̥͈͎͈̺͍͕e̱̪̭̣͉̘l͔̺͇̜̘̰̲͇͚͓̗͈̠̜̫͖̟͎̦s͓̥̤̠͇̠͚͙͔͈̠̼̩̣̟̩̙̠e̮̹̠̙͍.̖̬̘̮͖͔̩̟̹̥̮̠̘̺̜͍̜̭