Requite

What is it with you and me?
What's inside that I can't leave you be?
We said our goodbyes
Turned
. . . moved on
Suffered the hurt
Even tried new loves
It comes full circle
Around
. . . and around
Like a drunk and his drink
An addiction
One obsessed
Out of control
A play unfinished
An unwritten verse
I return to the paper
. . . another attempt
Cursed by your beauty
Bound by the hope of what could be
Doomed to suffer more injury

--Shenandoah Lynd