"We find warmth in the cold corners."
But, I'm not sure where I should sit when every corner I turn I see you in the same spot of my bed with coffee and cigarettes.
Or if I should feel warm when the carton you left runs out cause I smoked every single stick.
I'm not sure if I should feel cold when the corners of the bed I'm in aren't yours.
And the corners of my body that you traced are now traced by her.
We find warmth in cold corners, but every time I go into another room there's just a breeze that sounds like you.
And I hate that I have to lie and tell myself I don't love you.