I told myself I would stop.
Stop loving you the way I shouldn’t.
But it’s too late, the door has closed,
The cold air came and numbed my toes.
A vicious circle as the call it,
No reasons why.
I reach for you while fighting the urge,
As one I wish we were able to merge.
You’re my medicine,
my safe from every battle.
Saving me from the disparity,
helping to see what’s right there infront of me.
S. K. Young