Erraticness

Chaotic and Melancholic

She was chaotic.

He was melancholic.

She lived with fallacies,
huge riots, unsaid melodies,
—under all those rejected remedies.

He lived with tragedies,
constant depression, anxieties,
—above all those ignored uncertainties.

She met him through the highness,
from the purple kush she had taken.

He met her through the darkness,
amidst the blue lights he'd been.

She pulled some guy on the crowd,
as the boy didn't complain...
she grinded on him and held his hand.

He felt the warmth on the girl's hand,
and the lady didn't spoke...
he swayed with her and smiled.

She was taken home,
carried by somebody near the gate.

He kissed her good night lightly,
and fainted on the front porch suddenly.

They both woke up from the cold breeze
at 3:00 a.m. with their arms linked...
And then they stared and freeze
when it dawned on them what happened.

She offered him to come inside,
although her house was messy,
she made him drink a cup of coffee.

He accepted her even if he was shy,
since he was feeling in need of rest,
and he felt high and so weary.

They slept; she was on the bed
and he was on her sofa.
It wasn't sooner when he asked to leave.
So she bid goodbye and take care.

She saw him again that night.
His smile, his waving hands
when offered tequila and his
melancholic look hints fright.

He saw her again on the same bar.
Her smirk, her ethereal beauty
even when dancing dirty and the war
-like chaotic look on the party.

She made herself high.

He made himself drunk.

She wants to make him
take her home again.

He wants to make her
let him sober again.

The chaotic feels peace with him,
and
The melancholic feels glad with her.