(new edit)
...
buried demons and a dry lakebed
you wear the scars and black leather
but I was the one to watch her die
I see the moon at night
and I think only of her
I see your face at night
and I think only of her
any semblance of love we might have once had
has now long rotted away
along with our happy home
at night we neither sleep nor make love
...
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