4:23 am. day 477

here I am again, at this place I call home
a bed I used to lay in for hours, and talk to you on the phone
outside the window a see a street
we used to make out in your little orange car underneath that tree

I miss the days when you'd pick me up, and take me home
your hand I'd hold the entire ride, to and from
I miss your soft voice and the touch of your skin
I miss the smell of your hair
I miss your small little face
It's like you're gone, without a trace
a small little part of you I'll hold in my heart
you really have left your foot prints in my soul

I know this isn't over. I know this isn't over.

I know we aren't over. I know there are good times to be had and good years to come, a rough patch will face, but its only temporary. hit me, push me, punch me in the head. I want the abuse
whatever you choose. I feel like its the only thing to make it even. Although I am hurting, hurting right now I can't possibly know what it feels like to be you. I'll regret it for the rest of my life.

I'm fighting for you. And even when I think I can't do it anymore, and this is way too hard. I remember your face and your voice and us and the memories. I need it. I need it back. I need you.