I turn the lights out in the room,

I turn the lights out in the room, So your shadow won’t trail me along the wall. You exist in this world, but you’re not here, And this truth has become my refrain, my fall. I’m getting used to living with your back turned, Watching a film where we’re just credits, strangers now. You say, "Don't cry, just stay with me," But between us lie stone-heavy liters, somehow— Of spilled words and nights burned to the ground, Where I withered away, meaning nothing at all. You were once the only hope I had found, The only ray of light to answer my call. You stare right through me, unaware That I am burning in this icy flame. My love is just a song no one can hear, For ears that never listen to my name. They tell me, "He’s grown cold, let him go, Find someone else, tear him out of your heart." But those who’ve never loved so deep, don’t know The sting of the void, the pepper’s burning smart That you sprinkle on wounds before I fall asleep, While scrolling through photos on a glowing screen. Every breath I take is a promise I keep: To your warmth in a lexicon cold and mean. To love without rights. To be just a wall, Like a wounded bird beating against the stone. You breathe right beside me, yet not with me at all, And this dream drags on, and I’m left alone. I flip through our album, empty and vast, Where the frames are all there, but we’ve faded from view. We call it a shared dream, a ghost of the past, Waking up to a light that belongs to someone new. You stare right through me, unaware That I am burning in this icy flame. My love is just a song no one can hear, For ears that never listen to my name.