Empty Side of the Bed

Hush, don’t ask me how I’ve been,
With those empty words, pretending to care.
You left, and now you want to know if I’m okay?
It’s just something to say, when you don’t know what else to share.
I’m the one left behind, shattered, while you walk away,

And you think that I’ll be fine, just because the words sound kind?
Do you even know how deep this cuts?
Do you know what it’s like to be left with nothing but the memories?

While you have someone holding your hand,
I’m here, on the empty side of the bed.
The silence feels like it’s swallowing me whole,
Each night longer, darker, colder.
What am I supposed to do, to make it through?
When all I can feel is the emptiness without you?

Don’t pretend that you care now,
Don’t act like you’re so kind and sweet.
You’re the reason I’m standing here, trying to breathe,
But each breath feels like a lie I tell myself to survive.
You ask about my pain,
Like it’s just another casual game.
I was the one you left behind,
But you probably think I’m fine.
Tell me, what do you expect to hear?
That I’m stronger now? That the scars have disappeared?

While you have someone holding your hand,
I’m here, on the empty side of the bed.
The silence feels like it’s swallowing me whole,
Each night longer, darker, colder.
What am I supposed to do, to make it through?
When all I can feel is the emptiness without you?

The nights drag on, stretching forever,
And the loneliness weighs down like never before.
If you’re really asking, then let me say:
Each day feels like another battle I’m losing.
I’m tired of pretending, tired of this mask,
Tired of hearing questions I never asked.
So don’t ask me how I’m doing,
Unless you’re ready to hear the truth.
Because the truth is… I’m barely holding on.

While you have someone holding your hand,
I’m here, on the empty side of the bed.
The silence feels like it’s swallowing me whole,
Each night longer, darker, colder.
What am I supposed to do, to make it through?
When all I can feel is the emptiness without you?

Time passes, but nothing heals,
I’ve spent too many nights, crying myself asleep.
Wishing that this would finally end,
But even sleep is no escape from this pain.
So don’t ask me again,
Don’t ask me how I’ve been.
Because every time I hear your voice,
It feels like another wound is torn open,
Another night of fighting the darkness on my own.