You left a hole in my heart

and now it's infected.

I think I need a doctor

but I never met one

who knew the cure for a broken heart.

It's getting worse,

my chest is going numb;

I can't feel how I used to.

Everything is going cold

and hot at the same time.

I've got a fever, caused by you.

This old wound

is festering and

nobody likes pus in their hearts.

I can feel chills running through me.

Where's that doctor?

I'll take

any doctor,

but it turns out that doctor is you.

You tell me sweet words and

put a bandage over that gaping hole,

but that's just a quick fix

and I know as well as you

that I might never get past this.

This gash could kill me.

And maybe it's the fever talking,

making me delirious,

but you look sort of beautiful

standing there, with

that knife in your hand!

and suddenly, I feel

a thousand stabs to my gut

you're hurting me again

because apparently once wasn't enough.

I know better now,

learned my lesson.

I keep these new wounds clean,

they don't hurt as much

but that hole's still there

and I don't think it'll ever go away.

They tell me all it needs is time

and maybe that's true

but it ain't getting any better yet,

I'm still hurting without you.