Limerence

The side lines, the hidden obsession that brews like hot tea, slowly loosening up, releasing its hidden flavour. Unravelling like balls of yarn, just to be entangled again. The sad corner of my lips are always pointing downwards, pulled by gravity and the heavy burden of your temptations. Slowly, I realise, it is nothing but the limerence that is holding me face down to the cold, white floor, and that I should let go of it to stop hurting myself.

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