SHE
is laying in bed with the door locked
The curtains drawn the lights off
The Notebook in the DVD player
An empty tub of ice cream on the floor
Next to dozens of crumbled tissues
She's got her music blasting
So loud no one can hear her sobs
Fingertips are smudged with black From wiping away mascara stained tears
She's replaying their last conversation
Thinking "I'll never get him back"
HE
is sitting on the edge of his bed
With the door locked
The curtains are drawn and lights off
Call Of Duty in the X-box
The controller is laying on the floor,
Right beneath the spot where he nearly
Punched the wall in frustrations
He's got the music blasting so loud
So no one can hear his cries
His hairs a mess from running his hands through it
He's replaying their last conversation
Thinking "I'll never get her back"
