The moon has phases
In and out of the same cycle
Always orchestrating a reprisal
Over a number of days

I have phases, too
Yet they seem more like mazes, who
Don’t know where they lead to.
Unlike the moon,
Who is settled in his ways,
I bounce back and forth in this pinball machine,
Forwards, backwards, sideways,
Through different replays with the same ending: heartbreak.

I never know when or where they’ll start,
But I’m always the one with the broken heart.
The phases come and go as they please,
And always end up blaming me.