It doesn't take back all the unforgiving words I've said, while I stand beneath the scorching water of the shower head.

Gentle kisses to my skin, a sting that feeds my adrenaline.

I'm just a stupid moth being drawn to the flame.

I get hurt, yet I still play the game.

She uses me and makes me feel empty.

I'm living in the carved out body of the person I used to be.

The mask I wear perceives the illusion that I am happy.

The loneliest I've ever felt when I hold her body in my hand.

Every night, she lures me into her trap like quicksand.

And I bleed for her again.