Why are my dreams haunted with the past?
Why can I not just live and let live,
Do I love misery?
Do I love being a pawn in this depression game?
Even though, I hold all the cards,
Do I not want to let the past die?
Wake up with the last I remember when?
You seem to be some kind of disease,
That flourishes when I try to be some kind of writer
Art never came from happiness, isn’t that what they say?
Do I love reflecting on the past?
Do I not want to let you go?
I don’t,
Missing something you let go makes you crumble,