Sick Blood Gutter

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Obsidian on my windowsill
Has the pain around your [?] been bleached?
I got lost watching the days bleed
Obsidian
He sent you back with me
A fragment of what should have been
One of the things I get to keep

Life without you is a tiny room
With no doors and one window
Lit by slithers of the moon
Not enough light for life to grow
Obsidian hanging from the beam
Dangling just out of reach
Walls papered with memories
They ring with your words
But never your speech

Born in fire, scorched by dirt
Cooled and calloused by the earth
Now you sit before me
Tell me, do you feel free?
Live with liars, suffer hurt
Every day this fucking [?]

Plеase tell me you found pеace
Please tell me you feel free