I imagine this is how it would go for me.
My heart will be beating out of my chest.
Like an alcoholic that had been clean for years.
Then drank a huge swig of over proof rum.
That familiar rush flowing throughout.
Creating that sweet state of agony.
Doing things to me that you cannot see.
Temp the addiction is what my mind does.
Craving the past.
Thinking about what was.
Stuck in a loop that will not stop.
I should run away fast.
But I am a moth to the flame.
Even though it will never be the same.
It haunts me all the time.
Wondering how you are.
But I know you don’t think of me.
And that you probably are just fine.
Thinking of you is my agony.
You took what you wanted without concern.
My hard head will never learn.
That with you I will always get burned.
Always an expanse of unfulfilled desires.
Dreams floating away in the wind.
Because you never really felt the same.
Though you taunted me with your words.
To you it was simply all a game.
And I will never see your face.
And how I feel is just a waste.
The worst agony of all.
Is knowing that you will never call.
