It is not pain I feel for you
Not anger nor sorrow
I wish it were love
I dream of its nostalgia
This belief that the warmth that drives your heart, lights the lifeless coals beneath mine
Is merely an act of desperation driven by my cruel obsession for happiness without desolation
To define what I feel for you is to empitomize vacuity
For it is not you I crave, but the moments wondering aimlessly in the past
Yet, is it you who recrudences my conciousness?
Filling my psyche as well as its draught, for self love
Still bound by a chain thats lost its ball
Rather imprisoned by my regrets
Shot by another arrow that cupid set
Falling victim to the classic rythym
Beating to believe this is the same feeling
That inspired this obsession forever entangling insatiable desire with love

Masquerading the role of endearment in hopes to fill the gapping hole
Reading between every line for a sign that the track I ride is true
Stuffing my head with lies and food to steal my attention from the elephant in the room
Learning to reason with sanity only to find the truth repleated by vanity
Meaningless it seems to be tethered to the grotesque delusion of hope
Pining for another's embrace, using dope to fill this hunger as a way to cope
Wishing someone out there will spontaenously ask me to elope
Yet alas my foggy mind clears, and my thoughts gain traction, instead of love, maybe I don't need another distraction