The Room

There's a room in my head filled with things I can't feel anymore

It's the one to the left down the hall with a bolt on the door

There are days when the cold warps the frame so much more than it should

And the sound of our song can be heard through the cracks in the wood

There are days when I still sit and rest with my back to the door

With my head to the wood and my fingers caressing the floor

Through the cracks slip the aches seeking out in my ribs their old home

And just for a moment I let them find warmth in my bones

For a second I let myself think of what lies just beyond

like the way that you felt just like home and you smelled just like warmth

And the way that your lips used to curve when you smiled on my mouth

And the way that it broke me inside when you took it all back

The songs almost over I sit for just two minutes more

There's a room in my head filled with things I can't feel anymore