No remorse.
This lack of guilt. This lack of regret.
I’ve seen it before. That same look in her eyes.
She will leave me again and I will ask for more.

I don’t know if I’m a glutton for her punishment
or just pavlovian to the pain,
because I still find comfort in all of her beauty
and even in the ugliness she left when she went away.

But I’ve grown tired of her ghost,
and how it rings in our past with the shake of relentless chains,
haunting the space between who I wish to be and who I am today.
I can’t be with her and for the life of me,
I just can’t seem to push her away,
So I resign, lonely in love and hopeful upon this road
that she’ll relieve me of her ghost somewhere along the way