[Poem]: Conflicting.

Simultaneously pressured with restrictive emotions,

alongside a mind fog of emptiness.

A longing to be caressed to restore self-worth,

held in the mould of their arms:

symbolic that you’re their world.

Eyes interlocked feeling whole for a fleeting moment

before negatively pondering every aspect over lukewarm tea.

Days wither by, the careness for them intensifies

despite the recurrence of confusion.

Mind in a muddle, forcing all to be misconstrued.

Yet they’re the cure for returning you to you.

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