A room full of nothing
And a shutter of the door
She comes in with a broom
And starts sweeping me away

Beside her is a chair…
The one I’m still sitting in
And just gazing at the suns glare

Never minding my presence
She keeps on sweeping me away
Sweeping every memory
Just sweeping with dismay

The scratching of the broom as she raids on with her chore
And the collections of my remains how much more can they endure

Not only has she broken it into pieces
She is unable to sweep it away
Because every piece she touches
Crumbles into more
And every piece she crushes
Reminds her of me whole

These red pieces that urge to communicate
These bright red memories that await to levitate
But never more has she been hit so hard
Because now I have become a memory in her heart

“i just wanted to let you know that i love you...
even though love is not enough...
i miss you...even though you want me there...
and I’m here...even though it seems as is if I’m never there.”

This was what I was screaming as she ripped my heart out
Telling her how I feel
As my blood spout

As she came to her conscience
Meaning as she restored
She figured to do me one last favor
And collect me while her blood ran cold

As she drowned in this room of memories
She drowned me as well
Not able to piece me together
Knowing she was bound to hell

But I was always happy sitting in that chair
Even though I had no pulse, I was alive because she was still there

As she took a breath it passed on to me
But every brush of that broom was still killing me

Even though it was a last request from her to piece me together I just want
to thank her
That I was still there.
 
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