Same Old Follies

Centering my world and days around
Someone ; who sees all the acts as mere paper planes
A pass time or hobby, often misdirected.

Shun, this yearning
Drop this longing
It would but lead me astray.
And lamenting o'er the moments that could've been
Would not mend the day.

Ceasing to look thousand times
At the unblinking light.
Or the phone that doesn't ring
Would not end the plight.

I am a leech. Am I?
I hold onto - nay, tug
Onto people and cling onto their flesh
Such that they become my host
And I remain for them - parasite.

'Mistress of Maladies' as I often see myself
Bathed in tears, of unceasing lament.
Probably I get a certain high with that
As if its the primary attribute
And can't live with 'just' mirth