PyrrhicVictory

Three months on, I'm once again deep in a mad, gluttonous feast of punishment. After having the thoughts of you finally start to evaporate from my mind, here you are again, soaking my brain. I'm ashamed of spending this much grief on you. I wonder why I can't fight you off like an infection or expel you like a splinter. And still, I find myself wanting to talk to you ... without any idea of what I want to say.