Melancholy
You sit on my chest,
You tuck me into bed.
You cloud my brain,
You linger on my face
You are my closest friend
Alas, you wait for my embrace
Close
With a brush, With a brush,
Your hand against my back, Your hand against my back,
I feel what I have always longed for—
To be hungry, yet whole.
Friends
Can we be this way forever?
I know it is naive,
But how sweet would it be—
If we could stay here, in our cocoon
Just for a little while longer.
Terrace
Nestled upon the crest on the hill,
Is where a certain solace is found—
Something delicate and unfamiliar,
A feeling of something so desired—
Yet seemingly out of reach.
And so it happens,
That it was.
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