Your Screams are faint whispers echoing in these empty halls.
The mirrors only reflect what we once were.
Step back, look around, and realize that I can't live like this.
I'll leave the door open so at least the wet streets will be there to hear you cry.
Drown now, frozen by the regret pouring down your cheeks.
You are not what I need. More so, what I hate about myself.
Clutch the bottle tightly when the morning comes.
I hope you know this is our last night.
This dying horizon is how I'll remember your good-bye.
