Knowing

The knowing hands that search my face are gone.

The familair heat I loved is far away,

in the Twilight I hear them leaving.

Soft hair, kind eyes, and a heart breaking smile...

all gone.

What do you do when it all leaves?

The things you thought you knew,

have left.

Leaving an empty shell,

of what you use to be.

The knowing hands have gone,

the familair heat is far away,

but what do you do when it leaves?