I still cry over you,
into the deepening of June.
Sometimes I wonder if there's anything I could have done to make you love me too.

You chose her over me, and yet my mind can't let it be.
Your memories wash upon me
as I drown in the sorrows of you.
Even in rest, you reign over me.

Your voice plays through my head,
making me feel like a madman.
You could beat me and bruise me,
scoff me and scorn,
what more will it take to release my heart from this place so forlorn.