there’s a sort of familiarity
about my sadness
like an old flame
who lights you up
every now and then
knowing you two shouldn’t
but do anyway
and you’re left more burnt
than before
but the fire is a sort of comfort
because that’s what you’ve known
for so long
and you hate feeling like
your whole foundation
is being turned to ashes
blown away into a tomorrow
that you never quite want to see
but the embers rage for so long
they start to feel cold
so you don’t know what to do
when it is all extinguished
except wonder why
you let yourself feel this way
in the first place