My Disgrace

I see your face, I search your face, contorted and twisted with my disgrace. Disloyal I may have been but tied to you I am not, and though you tried and tried again, my loving cannot be bought. And while I may have let you then, your touch still haunts my dreams; every time you clench your fist, the voice in my head screams. And for now, this foolish heart resides, stitches its wounds, and heals its pride. I see your face, I search your face, contorted and twisted with my disgrace.