You said I was the rain
For the way I fell
And I said you were a river
For the way you ran.
The way you ran from the pain
The whole goddam world
Had caused you.
And now, you are gone . . .
And now, all I have left
Are the things I have
To make myself from:
From all the things
That are no longer here.
From the shatter in your eyes,
To what it is like to fall forever.
From all the things that used to matter,
To all the things that made me feel.
So keep running my friend, keep finding . . .
And I will do my best falling
And finding as well.
