They come. They go.
Such synchronicity
cannot be denied -
extracts the breath from me.
Twisted illusions
disturb my fragile mind.
Shadows dance -
and, once more, I must become resigned.
They say they'll stay in touch.
You never know -
or so I tell myself.
They come. They go.
Once I start to care,
I never can go back.
They drag my world through colourful chaos,
when all I need or understand
are shades of grey,
and black.
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