I question and wonder
Why I do what I do;
You're perfect, undeserving-
But I do it to you.

Sometimes I regret
What's been done long before.
But how can I regret-
The actions made more?

You've been so faithful-
And I've been untrue.
You're perfect, undeserving-
But I do it to you...

You've given me reason
To never need more,
But I'm tempted and fragile
And urged to explore.

During the process
Its all just a game.
Winning is losing-
It's all just the same.

Before I commit, I-
Always think back.
"I've done it before,
So once more while I'm at."

Which leads to hard feelings
And depression-filled numb.
Thereafter, I regret,
But it's already done.