Is it lying in bed with another wishing you were here?
Is it when I reach over to the cold side of my bed and I die a little bit?
Is it thinking of you when I know you aren't thinking of me?
Is it the dreams that keep me wide awake at night?
Or is it the guilt that consumes my every waking blight?

I'm still trying to figure out what makes me still tick about you,
I'm still fading in and out of reality making myself still sick about you,
Maybe I still long for the person that you once were,
Not the jaded being you are now that the world has cursed,

You ask love forgiveness it doesn't ask you,
For what is love without driving one’s own self to insanity?
Love is about chasing ghosts until you are that ghost,
Following wherever the apparition appears,

Love seems to be the chasing of one another’s unwanted souls,
With that and only that do we find a home in being alone?
I guess so,
It seems right,
Oh so right.