the peace on my shoulder

lies there in melancholy

i've grown into acceptance

of some type

i still bargain with the sky

for more but i know

that it will not come

it's a reluctant acceptance

i want to be kissed

now at 6pm on the train station

but it will not happen

i will not be loved

randomly and ferociously

i accept this

with a bent neck

and melancholy peace