Need I Say More?

Unemployed.
Neurotic.
Pimple infesting my face.
Trepidation.
Getting fatter and fatter.
Panic attacks.
Weeping my heart out.
Depression.

Back To You

You remain to be the object of this deepest fondness through all these years.
I ought to abandon this hopeless affection for you which only render me misery.
I drown every time in this unrequited admiration that I cannot haul, I cannot pull out.
And no matter what, it will always leave me on the thread of hope, on the hills of daydreams, on the edge of pangs.