the itch to leave
to forget every single detail
every guilt
have never been this big

the sin of compassion
was the cue
unable to hold the curiosity
was the glue

and it went on for years,
on full speed
the high was too sweet
to let go

no one can be blamed
no fingers should be pointed
to any direction
it doesn't matter anymore

then as sudden as it started
it ended,
with nothing left
to remember by
to savor 

getting by is the only 
reasonable option
even if it means 
losing some sparks

so the books will be closed
the sheets folded neatly
to start everything again
from ruins

Picture was borrowed from here.


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