Since I was a child,
sadness has walked beside me longer than I dare confess.
She stayed through chaos and madness,
through the murkiest nights (for she is all I ever knew)
and even through my brightest hours (for I felt I did not deserve them).
Since I was a child, I was taught not to be sad—
not to feel so fiercely,
not to show who I truly am.
I was told to lock my sorrowful eyes inside a vault
with everything that made me imperfect to the world.
And so, I did,
all my life…
until you came.
You opened the vault of miseries
and embraced them one by one
until you reached my forgotten sadness.
You held her long enough to make her weep,
and for the first time in years,
I felt free to be.
You caressed her hair
as if touching a secret of the universe.
You kissed her cracks
and stitched together the frayed threads
that lashed against you, eager to cut—
and they did.
But you licked the blood from your fingers and smiled:
“We will be sad together,” you said.
And you wept.
You wept with her as she unveiled
all the times I hid her,
cloaked her in masks,
denied her the right to be mine.
All the times she was cast out as a curse,
named poison instead of balm.
All the times they tried to tear her away from me,
blind to the truth that she was
my most human refuge.
You saw her for what she is:
another way of feeling.
Thank you
for teaching me to feel.
Wrote this will sad and my boyfriend decided to say "we will be sad together" and I bawled my eyes out and this came from it.
