the point is moot

it doesn't matter anymore
i knew it was over

you've opened the door
i knew it was over

you've left with a piece of me
don't know if i want it back

you've left me with memories
don't know if i want them back

i'm holding onto pieces of you
those pieces slipping through my fingers

I'm putting together of what little remains
of the pieces that slipping through my fingers

grasping at nothing,
holding on to nothing,
you're not here anymore.