You dwell on the past so much that it consumes you.
you drown in your thoughts, over thinking is what you do best.
you'd risk it all for love, you crave passion
you drift away in your own little world to only come back sad wishing the human world was a better place. if caring to much was a drug you'd overdose. you love to write but you crave to be written about, noticed, wanted. To be a muse of a great love that only exists in your head, a love that you can only give yourself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem