I have a collection of your clothes,

In a place no really goes

And the memory of your face,

In a more important place

Somewhere in my heart, it shows

In a place that no one ever goes

It screams, in it's own silent way, and

I can hear a bitter wine

"Leave run, you've had your fun."

And I know my time is done

A cold truth, I am well aware

I quickly forget when my fingers touch your hair

I care, and I can't stop,

Going to that place with the memory of your face

A blackhole,

A combination of your love and my soul

And no one ever goes,

Because no one really knows

Of the memory of your face,

In the most sacred of a place

Where your love meets my soul,

A never ending blackhole