I don’t like the present,
the way i’m living without your absence,
is like the sunlight that remains hidden,
so does the moonbeam never pop up again.
I keep counting days to process the moment,
to remind the self not to be insane,
but, the past wont allow the riddance,
he force me to stay and live in prison.
How could i not agree to hate the future ?
when everything is so vague and obscure,
where you are the only embodiment of my cure,
now, there is nothing left for sure.
I used to be dream of you in the bigger picture,
to complete me beyond my lackness and immature,
sadly, i’m not even close enough in the slightest dream of yours,
and not even a single nightmare too the reason you wake up for.
Maybe it’s just me who love the sensation,
how your attention and affection turns into addiction,
and i wish we could exist in different dimension,
so i can fix all of the imperfection.
Monomania 