when i seek you i loathe you,
when i find you i break,
i cant hang on to all that hate.

you’re not coming home,
not to me anyway,
you loved me at one time,
back before we crossed that line.

the line you promised not to,
the line we drew with fingers in sand,
back when i knew the world was in my hands.

now there’s no sand,
my hands are cold,
and all this unrequited love for you  is getting old.