We use to sing to the lights that kept us awake those many nights. Imagination sang with your voice when we couldn't close our eyes.
Twisted truths that laid between us, not even realizing we were broken from the inside. I called it a thread on a needle that held our tounges from really knowing what's behind these heavy sheets.
Leaving scars that even our bed became laid with stone, and our presence was cold. The softness we had was ridden with thorns every time we laid our heads back.
No time to ever look at each other, at the mistakes we made and the smiles you gave.
So now these sheets are mine and mine alone. To close my eyes and reminisce the times. You laid here with me.