A sanguine disposition is what your outlook has become
But there's something enslaving about pain
You can never truly rid yourself of it
You miss it
As if you'd miss a lost lover
You crave it
As you'd crave the beauty of making love to a man who solely belongs to you
Although happiness kisses your brokenness in an attempt to heal it
You go back to what you know as home
You return to your affliction
There's something about leaving a place which has become all that you know
Nearly impossible to escape the alluring presence of despondency
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
A sanguine disposition is what your outlook has become
But there's something enslaving about pain
You can never truly rid yourself of it
You miss it
As if you'd miss a lost lover
You crave it
As you'd crave the beauty of making love to a man who solely belongs to you
Although happiness kisses your brokenness in an attempt to heal it
You go back to what you know as home
You return to your affliction
There's something about leaving a place which has become all that you know
Nearly impossible to escape the alluring presence of despondency
