my melancholia

12. ywmc .

I buy my ticket of sorrow
Sit on the uncomfortable cushioned seat
The arm rest not quite fitting me
Familiar dreary sceneries pass me

Minutes and days and months flitter over
Weary and restless and wistful
I abandon the unsupportive support
And prop my elbows on the window sill
I face the blurred scenery head-on and Focus

I see everything clearly
The city's charm, ugliness and reality
The warm feeling in my heart slowly turns cold,
then the same temperature as my forgotten beer on the sill
With no heat or coolness, the city fades
Into beautiful abstract watercolours
Like a hand had swiped over a fresh painting

I turn back into my seat
And sink into its comfort
The arm rests fit me
I look ahead and rest
I won't miss this
I'm ready for the next city
How ever long it might be

I won't miss you
I am going past you now

- Q

#youweremycity