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.