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Missa Defunctorum
praise the lost souls, it'll set yours free
You're still here.
Mood: Lost.
Song: Up Against The Wall - Boys Like Girls

She holds her hands to her chest,
she points and looks beaten.
Like an abused pet, left to die.
And she just looks at him,
Her gaze, it never falters.

His eyes return her stare with one
That acknowledges this is it.
This is the end.

"Three days, where have you been?"
Her voice is already breaking,
but her eyes stay strong.
She studies his face,
His expression.
His everything.

He doesn't reply.
As if it'll go from three days to three weeks,
To three months, to three years.
To three decades.
He just watches her, his lips move slightly,
It's as if he's thinking of an answer.

No reply.
She stares.
He stares.
The snow is going crazy out there,
Outside the window.

They stare into one another's souls.
Everything she wants to stay hidden pours out of her,
Everything he's been trying so hard to hide crawls out.
They can't control a thing.

"Why?"
Her voices is soft, barely audible.
His lips move again, reaching for a reply.

"I don't know."
It's not enough.

Her eyes are covered with tears,
but she blinks them away,
She clenches her fists.
She looks up at him,
She's feeling sick.

"It's been three days without the one who I love,
And he doesn't know, oh he doesn't know,
What's going on or where we'll be headed,
Never a direct answer, and clearly never a regret."

It's been three days.
And still no reply,
But I'm not that girl,
And I can't bring myself to try.

It's been three days,
And he still hasn't tried.
And I haven't cried,
'cause I'm not that girl.





 
 
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