It left a note inside my head The parts of you we loved are dead And while I'll sit beside your bed You my friends are gone With all that we grew to expect We blurred the lines of self respect The runors preach of our neglect To proce the point we're wrong The worst part of living through a disaster Is waiting around until it happens again It seems the worst part of being stuck with an answer Is knowing not to ask the question again You grabbed my wrist, you said to me We're twenty-six and all I see Are shells of who I thought we'd be Now that you are gone We took some time, we sit out We brushed it off but still this doubt Keeps echoing without the sound Reminding me I'm wrong The worst part of living through a disaster Is waiting around until it happens again It seems the worst part of being stuck with an answer Is knowing not to ask the question again I'm sick of doing enough to just get comfortable I want to be vulnerable I want to be miserable I want to not let the light in, despite the habit I've been in Of talking about the time that's on my mind I'm buried here six feet beneath my lack of confidence With your crooked smile still next to me asking "that's all there is?"