I miss the shouting, the crying, the confessions
The noise of your fluttered broken heartbeat
Our shaky exhales at skins' first contact
No more simple sounds of life
I miss hearing about the pain, the joy
Of insignificant things, that come with each new day

I’ve heard it said a thousand times
That peace in the wind is a precious thing
The emptiness that comes in comfort swings
That silence leaves a breath to in/exhale
A moment to ponder and a moment to dream

I’ve heard it said a thousand times
That time will seal our jagged souls
All wounds will be healed and
I will find perfect, true, beautiful
again.

I think you are a liar,
Everyone who has said those things
Silence is an empty thing

And time will never heal what has slowly turned to dust.