Who Could Of Guessed?
What do I have to do when my heart is ripped out?
Why should I get up out of bed and do things?
I guess he needed so much more than my own love could give.
And I guess that broken hearts will one day mend,
But today my heart and soul won't let go of his voice, hair, eyes
Or his cologne lingering in the air.
Why did he go? Why did he leave?
Where is the love that I once had??
Does his heart belong to another?
I have no desire to even breathe,
Let alone eat or go out of my house ever again.
It hurts to breathe,
But each day is a bit easier than the last.
And then when I realize that,
For each day that passes,
A piece of us dies.
Published on July 15, 2006 in