some days i wonder
why you still
remain;
other days
i find comfort
in your
lingering

like a patch of
snow
in the dead
of July -

i dont know
what the ****
youre still
doing here,
but i know
that i am
comforted
by the oncoming
promise of the
cold

halley's comet
comes back around,
but you are not
ethereal enough
to do so
forgivably.

There you go, messing with my heart again.
Do you think I'm here just for your amusement?
I don't exist just so you can come back to me whenever you get bored with whomever you ran off with.
Don't pretend like you want me back when we both know it's not true.