Dried up with no blood pumping from my dehydrated heart

She knows not how I feel, but I can't dilute these feelings

I have, out of my head, my day is hers from end to start

I wallow in misery's puddle skin deep in a wet suit



I climb the tower walls of my own self-destruction

I'm pencil walking on disappearing ink

The numbers that I see on the clock before me spell out her name

The puzzle fits not for the missing link



She tortures my dreams with her beautiful images

Longing for her so much it hurts to know

She is not mine, a shame which my life disintegrates

In front of the song we once had, alas her love does not show



Pondering my loneliness as I'm standing in a lonely chair

Skiing on sandpaper, playing my unplugged electric guitar on my bed

Feeling like a dart team goalie, used and abused in despair

Juggling my life with handcuffed wrists, ending before I begin



It is not her fault, I know as well as she

My mind begs not to write, but my hand does not hear

It is my own assault that buries me

My heart suffers because she is not near

I still love you, Heather, and always will