A Backtrack:

You've learned to live half alive,
yet you'll always want me one last time.

So here's to you, ghost from my past,
take a taste of what you'll never have back.

Who the fuck do you think you are?
To run around, leaving scars, all to fill your jar of hearts.

It's so damn easy to point a finger.
Taking responsibility for your mistakes requires strength.
& you don't have it in you.

I've written pages & pages
trying to rid you from my bones,
to decompose these recycled feelings.