stagnant growth. frustration on heat. loveless heart. sadness reigns.

I run, you walk.
I cry, you see me cry.
I scream for relief of the pain,you let me love you anyway.
I fight and curse, you stare in agony,
as I crumble.

A century apart wouldn't have made a difference.
There was a tear from my eye for every touch on my skin,
an invisible scar with an odour of regret stings my conscience daily.

A 'pick-me-up' is what an addict would call the drug they'd choose to put them at ease for a little while. A 'relapse' is what I call and encounter with you.

You don't love me anymore - this is what it feels like to be alive and not be living.

What do I keep doing wrong?