Losing the Feelings

You're not matching me, I'm not matching you.
Like burning puzzle pieces.
Our hands are losing feeling from trying to bend them,
Yet we don't listen to what the burns teach us.
So there goes us,
We crumble and fall.
Staring in awe,
At the tower that was once tall.
My leg, my razor.
Making a blood brush stroke.
You and your lies,
Only knowing how to chain-smoke.
Now a tornado,
That was once a clear blue sky.
It was once a whisper,
Now a scream to the world "Goodbye."