Her giggles and her scent are still in his memories, but is he the only one who can't forget?
My fingers wrapped around her thorns, I bleed, but she is dying in my grasp.
Have you ever been into a new relationship but haven't moved on with the previous one?
Bereaving of the death of love, embraced by the cold winters of the absence, to beg and to have failed.
I count the lines on your palm, and I found nothing but me holding you.
He'll fill the void in your heart or the emptiness I gave, and he will be the hands you'll hold when you're away.
You'll begin to have more time to give, losing yourself in hours of conversations, wishing he'd talk more.