You talked over the dinner table,
crying in a little voice, telling us:
"I want to die, there's nothing left,"
as you cover your face with those pale fingers.
We looked over with a slight frown-
it's so human-like, but too childish-like-
and with comforting lies we plotted;
but those aren't really lies, you chose not to believe.
Yeah, we just want that one last smile from you
and to hear that laugh in a moment
under the streetlights we used to walk together under,
on that cold night, holding hands;
"family," wasn't that what we were?

Now it's all falling down and apart,
there's no story left to tell;
nor lies exist to become the truth because now,
it's just empty silence devouring eyes that lost their glow,
the same moonlight through the windows we closed
coming back to haunt us every night with
the same patterns all the time.
Holding my head downright, no not upright anymore,
I can't hold it up, it's too tiring-
I walk down this black street tainted with broken promises
and heaved a sigh as my last known breath escapes.