No More

Homemade sorrow — A love poem

I hoped fear would run away before letting me know.
As the fear I release, runs down my face,
and regenerates the pain I left open for you to see.

Open for self-pity to float higher in my constant rain.
A downpour that finds it more acceptable to be hated than interrupted.
While addicted to procrastination and waiting for reincarnation.

Sometimes it is good to be the enemy. Absent love and pity.
Showing myself does not make me weak. Even if I struggle to speak.
How many times dejected? Sorrow finds it impossible to forget.

Time gave the end of contemplation, without giving direction.
Bored ecstasy faded away from the fear of feeling the same.
Every time you walked into the room. Sorrow left me alone.

The way you danced with me in my fantasy,
resembles how I desire to be.
It took all my strength to look away.

No more breaking a broken heart.
No more near the end.
No more innocent second chance.

No more anxiety from yesterday, no more gifts to pretend.
No more forever to offer you, no more homemade sorrow.
No more catching when we fall.

No goodbye will set me free from endless days of karma whirling me.
No more going too far. No more being my own enemy.

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