Our house

The couch is not the same without your legs getting dizzy with mines
The carpet is just another cold peace of fur without us on it
The door has been closed since we throw the key away
And the ceiling became a part of the floor

Our house is asking me about your shadow
About your footsteps, about your nothing
I don’t know what to answer
I don’t know if I should tell everything here you won’t come back

There’s no way to distinguish the flowers of the mud
The backyard now is a wonderland of darkness
I don’t want to even talk about the mattress
I don’t know how to sleep alone there

Our house is asking me about your shadow
About your footsteps, about your everything
And I start crying when I try to answer
They don’t know what I know, you won’t return

Our tube, our own sadness
Our love, our shoes and ties
Everything is broken now

Our house is getting smaller
Since your tall body is not making me company here