I never left the sink on,
But I might've left the shower all the way if I needed something to think on.

Liberation came in the form of her absences.
Liberation came in from her absences...

The winter's coming had only seemed to mock me as the;
Smiles tripped, flipped, and tricked into the plain.

Plain as day when the monotony sucks you into the motions.
The winds whips cause my tears to be runaway slaves.

I force my blood to not clot but run away as the pulse forces it into the pits and cages that I am.
Rages against the machine that I am.

Ages turn those tears into kamikaze mirrors because I see myself falling. 

Crossing the roads and burning the bridges,
Ink spills of the page but drips off the ridges.

That's a double standard,

But the standards are half as what they should be.
100 percent of time she isn't there.

And that there is the problem,
The problem that's lurking,

Like behind you was your shadow,
But your shadow isn't the only thing dark in yourself.