Stagnant.

Maybe it's because I wish too hard.
"Don't seek love,it will find you when you least expect it," they say.
What about if I spend my life expecting it?
Will it never come?
It feels like a long, lost dream now,
Or perhaps something that should never have belonged to me in the first place.
Am I destined to be alone?

I believe I've held love in my hands many times,
yet each time it floated away like a birthday party balloon,
Carried on the faintest breeze and slowly lifted, drifting,
leaving too much distance to grasp hold of again.
Far away in another direction,
Out of reach.

Love has adopted its own fashion nowadays.
Play it cool,keep your distance.
Wait and proceed with your daily activities,
how the hell does one cope with that?
Are there any classes for,"play it cool therapy?"

I've never been a fashion victim,
could never take the pace.

My colours have always clashed with your black and white.

Is it just I?
Or has Love lost its clout?
I remember it once as kindness and light.
Spontaneous days and passionate nights,
Lying close,feeling safe.
Head filled with,"I don't care if I don't wake tomorrow,"type thoughts.

Have I grown out of it?
Does it still exsist in certain parts?
Can anybody tell me if it was only a phase?
Have I had my day?

Studying the mirror,
My looks have let me down.
Furrowed brow,deepened frown,
now,my most prominent feature.

I harbour great fear that I may have missed the boat.
Anchoring here.
Destined to have a long shelf life,
passed my sell-by-date.
Flat not fizzy,still not sparkling.

Distilled and matured.
So much bottled up,
Trying to keep the faith
as I wait here and stagnate.