From this place I come and go
Warring time for absence  
But without fault my flesh begins to crumble
So to this place I return
Begging expression to save me

Nostalgia is a dangerous emotion
It unknowingly saturates our past in colours so vibrant
So we crave time that never existed

We are not scared of death
We are scared of finality
The possibility that we can come to an end
The line of our lives is not
Perpetually drawn
That the world can exist
When we do not
Because at the end of the day
We are all narcissists

I want to write,
but I write what I feel

and I can't feel anymore.