I swear I see silver phantoms of you,

dancing in the wind, laying out your traps.

Some nights I’m intrigued and try to pursue,

fallen for your tricks, I find I’ve relapsed.

You push me down a slippery slide

And when I find myself at the bottom

I find the man I once was, myself reside,

a man I wish could be left forgotten. 

So I crawl, climb, claw my way up to 

the top of the slide, and brush myself off,

boarding it up to try and undo 

the work of your charms, I force a loud scoff.  

There is an empty bliss in reliving

the forgotten, it is unforgiving.