I am living life backwards,
back,
unwelcome,
a mistress to my memories,
who will only see me discreetly,
under the cover of darkness.
Tell me,
why do fools fall in love,
with the days they’ll never see again?
Why am I wandering,
moonlit and miserable?
There are fireworks frolicking in the sky,
the stars painted like a rainbow,
as Big Ben sings to the city,
that we made it through another year,
and I am furious,
at an inanimate object,
that is only doing his job,
and telling me the time,
because I’m not ready to sleep,
when I know tomorrow will be waiting,
as I awake.
The daylight is cruel,
dancing in the distance,
further and further away,
every time I take a breath,
but the night is pushing me towards my next step,
ignoring my ill fitting heels,
and general reluctance.
I am clinging to the pavement,
praying for the world to stop spinning,
bells to be blissfully still and silent,
so I can hold on to the night a little longer,
but night can never take me back,
and I can tell by the way the day avoids me,
that day doesn’t want me either.
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The days not wanting you
could be a big reflection
of you not wanting them
maybe by living in the past
present days feel in shame.
Loving past days is natural
we all can talk in consensus
and not loving the present
is not something dissentious.
Feel guilty in the coming days
when dealing with depression
thing is that it is not allowed
your true soul’s expression.
At times want to live in the past
other times want a clean slate
that’s why you want to beat
and win over this mental state!
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