This means business, four floors up where we kiss the sun through the glass windows.
You can't call in sick because we all know you're just fine, got your shades in, me out in the heat.
I miss you (in bed and at work) left me on the floor, left a note by the door that read "thanks for the love, it just wasnt enough"
You're the queen of leaving me empty handed and full in the head, i'm staying asleep in bed.
The next time you come around with him, i'll let him know right now, i've been there and done that, hes in for it.
Your scent stitched in my nose, a permanent trip to Hell in every smell.
Your shadows traced inside these sleeves, thats the last time you ever borrow one of my shirts.
I miss the way you used to smile like the streetlight on the corner of my cove.
My hands used to reach all the way up until your lips were the only thing i cared ot feel.
Well i've always been one for talking to myself about these things, my little schizophrenic self serenades.
I must confess, i've never loved or hated anyone as much as me.
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