Broken Heart Syndrome

You won't open up You never did The chances of you reaching out to me on this shifting tectonic plate The same as jumping out an airplane window But you never opened up and now it's too late What part of my faults was too much to alleviate? Breaking a vase to feel useful fixing something Playing audio tapes of lost voices to solve a sin through the sting Wrapping pinkies and melting silver to asseverate a promise ring Well I promise that I'll never run away again I'll never be a lost voice coercing your curiosity to listen But she's gone and you have to face that The replay button won't give a harsh truth like a man who's built you a house of trust under an honest roof Leaving the car running for a sense of destination Carving “everything happens for a reason” into your wrists And watching it repair For a sense of mediation Did the angels fall to help me, or fall to their deaths? Weighted blankets feeling more like medieval torture devices Crushing every part of me I've ever loved And leaving a shell of bone marrow and empty eye sockets stuck in a fixed position of staring at something above I can’t tell if the angels fell to help me, or fell to their deaths It's the fear of dying unaccomplished that single handedly gets me out of bed Well I won't open up I never did And I don't know how! It never seems to reach a still point, this town And I can't get enough silence With the cemetery of yearning voices in my head, proving that spirits can be violent I embodied my greatest achievement in a parade float But I’m propelling it down an empty road I’d have better luck getting a breath of fresh air from an airplane window Are you finding a breath of fresh air at the bottom of that flask? Engulf me with mere seconds to relief Like an anesthesia mask Sunset full of cotton tinges of violet As the outline fades around you, My throat collapses to evade one last question I'll never open up I didn't know how and now it's too late! Which one of my character defects was too arcane to anticipate?