Why would I need an antidote
to melancholy
It's the wind under my wings
The sadness I need for my poetry
It's the melody that keeps me up at night
Art devours me whole when I'm at loss for words and air
Melancholy sounds strange but fits my trembling hands just fine when I'm holding
The quill that writes my story
A story that's melancholy in description
An antidote to the hope and heartbreak
The bittersweet book of love that I'm reading often leaves me disappointed
And all I have left Is my melancholy
It holds me in the quite/white winter dusk and caresses my hair
When my countless lovers adrift
The sunlight rarely burns through my skin anymore
It's the moonlight I crave
The feelings of madness that I await
Why would I need an antidote to melancholy
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