Melancholic


Too fond of myths,
we fall, effortlessly, for this,
until it falls apart to tiny little bits.
All that you lack is everything I miss.

Drawn back to the source
of unrequited dreams, remiss
and let it run its course,
so undemanding, yet so hard to resist.

I thought my end had justified my means,
that every bridge was burnt
to ugly stains no gentleness can clean,
but you reel me in, dragging my will through the dirt.

Magnetic, unavoidable and unopposed.
Calamity on hold.
We should've locked the doors.

I should've known absence adds up to bliss.
Drive uncontrolled,
though none of us can take the risk.

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