Torturous Head Games Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

I written about you before.
Spoke of the good times.
Spoke of the hard.
Like a distant star you seem far.
Gone is everything but mere whisper of your name.
But still every memory is cherished.
Locked away in a box.
Never to be lost or forgotten.
You made me who I am today.
You brought me back to life when I should have died cold and alone.
Let the crime fit the punishment.
But you told me no.
You can never give up or give in.
No matter the ghosts that follow your ever footstep.
Beat them back if you must.
Under your breath go ahead mutter and cuss.
I know its hard to move on.
But you must.
These attachments are just to clingy for me don't you see.
Smother someone and they will not be able breathe.
And they will do everything they can to break free.
The more you want it.
The more you can't have it.
The pleasure of torturous head games.
Mixed feelings that would drive most insane.
But not me oh no, I distance myself and just numb the pain.
I learned the serious ones do not play.
They make their move.
They tell you how they plan stay.
The long haul till death does all part.
Their just three little words.
They forever echo in mind.
What I should have said so long ago.
But now its too late.
A broken heart.
Give me another injection before the rejection starts.
Sitting by the hearth of a warm fire.
Staring off empty space.
Knowing its nobody fault but my own.
Self loathing is something I never condone.
But here I am contradicting my self.
Like fish out of water.
I'm flopping back fourth.
Still I know I must stay the course.
I know the answer will come.
But do I have patients to endure?
Or will I baited with another lure.
I do my damnedest to not allow it rest assure.