Sweet scent, my gravity
Carries me
Wandering
Through winding trees
Fallen leaves hiss at me
An omen, indistinct
Upon the clearing
My meadow stands empty, save for
A maple. Its sap,
Rust and wine,
A fountain of false prophets
From which I feast
Into scorched earth, I cough up teeth
Scarlet blood boiling
Back up at me

That's the thing about insatiability
It can't be compartmentalized
It doesn't have an appointment
Or even a purpose, really
It is a persistent, unwelcome fog
That creeps into your skull
Until it smooths over every surface
And dampens every thought beneath it
And though some days
The fog may dissipate
Nothing is ever good enough
Not for long, anyway

I am sorry
If until now
I'm still into you
I'm still inlove with you.

I am sorry
If I can't move on
I tried  all my best
I amused myself
But it did not work.

I am sorry
I tried to forget the mem'ries
I tried to forget the moments
I tried to forget the feelings,
And I tried to forget you
But ****! Still it's You!

I kept chasing
you, as if
you were
a distant dream.
But dreams
are not always
dreams.
Sometimes, we have
nightmares too.