Nostalgia is a dirty disease
Let go of my hand so I can pray for release
Iv’e only just got the wine stains off my teeth
No bells can call to me.
Sentimental longing is bittersweet
I have learnt I do not long for long enough
I have learnt so much.
It walked out the door and I crashed through the window-
built myself up with the pieces I gained back
after endlessly devoting them
to an undeserving cause
I gave myself an applause.
because my hands were free.
We will never speak speak
and so I talk to myself
I thought it was good
You were bad for my health.