i thought i was over this

that i’d healed my heart

but i suppose i’ll never be

that’s the tragedy of this art

i watch how she charms you

just like all the others before

runs her hands through her curls

why i watch, i’m still not sure

she says something funny

you lower your head

hiding your smile

oh, it fills me with dread

she drinks from your cup

i think i’ve seen it all

her spit mingling with yours

while you stand there so tall

your eyes, they sparkle

tracing her face

with her hand in yours

she’s won the race

i thought i’d moved past you

but i’m back to the start

my obsession will consume me

but i guess

that’s the tragedy of this art.