Two parts all my letters

You can blame me for it all...
And I won't say a word against it.
Only the dripping sound recalls the home
Where the light’s been on for almost a month.

And I still love you, and I still miss you...
More often and more, I want to be with you.
Why is this happening? I don't understand...
The world has found its own sad hero now.

And it's paper again, and the rhymes just won't come.
I've gathered the thoughts that I couldn't outrun.
Now only emptiness... tomorrow's for a friend.
And tears in my sleeve, with tenderness in the end.

Two parts that make up all my letters, all my lines,
Two syllables in your name, like a sacred chant.
I don't want to talk about this state of mine...
The world is filled with emptiness, I can't.

And I still love you, and I still miss you...
More often and more, I want to be with you.
Why is this happening? I don't understand...
The world has found its own sad hero now.

And it's paper again, and the rhymes just won't come.
I've gathered the thoughts that I couldn't outrun.
Now only emptiness... tomorrow's for a friend.
And tears in my sleeve, with tenderness in the end.

It's foolish and childish, absurd... all around.
The skin, and a blade, and a shot, and the glass.
Tobacco and fire have left without a sound...
For three days I'm watching my own final dream pass.

A house... emptiness... two beds... and a cough.