Addicted. Obsessed. Unsatisfied.
You either leave me depressed or electrified.
So what do I do when you say it
When you say my name with that tone... to it?
I can't raise my hopes, or, smile
in the hopes – that one day you'll return that scope.
I can't escape this feeling;
this feeling of faith and believing...
Believing that maybe this feeling inside
was meant to be hidden and ridden of pride –
Pride that doesn't really exist
Because maybe you know how it feels to be missed
You know this unbearable pain;
pain which recurs, again and again.
I need you to leave me alone...
not leave me alone, but alone.
Just one look and it's all in my head
You and the reason I wish I was dead.
Not dead to the world, nor dead to you, either
but dead to myself, this hopeless believer.
I'm not going to lie, my name makes me grieve.
To always have faith, to trust and believe.
Maybe she's right, I'll end up unhappy
But although I'm different
my motives aren't scrappy.
I'm awkward as hell, think you could tell
but it's only because I'm under your spell.
I need a break from this mental... break
Breakdown, really, I need an escape.
Help me to get over this fatal reprise,
Help me before I screw up...
And you leave.
YOU ARE READING
P.S.
Poesia"Not all Art has to be art. Some Art is simply the Art of writing." ~ T. Durand
