Everytime you log off

and i'm stuck here in this cold house
with only the flawed way i can remember everyone's voice
not well enough, not convincing at all
I can remember the shape of my days and the muted pulse that pulls me through
it feels like sand in my fingers and more sand coming

everytime you do that you leave me without wings
without a lifeline, or connection to anything
i'm like a cartoon in the stratosphere, giving that comically horrified glance to the audience, and then youre back

and i breathe

and i wonder how and when i got this lonely