there are two types of sadness

there’s the kind of sadness
we ignore and
try to get rid of it
by finding new things to do
or we find someone to talk to
by blatantly avoiding any type of conversation
about feeling sad
about having any feelings at all
and then there’s that kind of sadness
that takes over
and it consumes any activity we do
we know it’s there
and there’s no possible way to avoid it
so we feed it exactly what it wants
it craves the sad music
it craves the isolation
it craves the anxiousness
and the sadness comes storming in
it has no manners
here we are calling sadness, an “it”
when all it is
is a feeling
that most people
call home

Here we go again
step by step
this time it's different I say
things have changed, I've changed
I think to myself
again

I stop, just a moment
I look up, same old road
I look down, old familiar steps
sunk in a bit deeper into the ground
I've been here before,many, many times

Game over,
try again
the only thing changing
is the passing of time and the pace of my steps

Can't outrun yourself
Maybe I should just lay down
watch the seasons go by

What's the point?
I've never stopped to question it before

To afraid to find answers

A diary
for the broken ones and the fixed
for the yearning
the lost, the found, the loving
and the trapped
the free spirits of this world
and maybe the next

laid out before you
a map of it all

collect them
all these perfect little moments
hiding in plain sight
waiting to be found
keep em
but let them stay free

I'm good
most of the time
I'm in control
I'm satisfied, I can feel happines

But sometimes a feeling comes crashing over me
out of nowhere
triggerd
like when you finish a good book
the end credits roll
of a movie all so beautiful
emptiness sitting on your chest so heavily
I can't cry
no release granted
"pain demands to be felt"
my heart breaks, my mind trying to keep up
my heart can't keep up, my mind breaks loose
emptiness
the despair of ficitional characters
familiar but strangers all the same
not real but reality to me
I care for them, being dead inside
"face death, deal with it or lose yourself"
the last page is turned
the story stopped
all are dead and yet alive
in me
not enough room, make way

I try to numb it out to get back in control
whisky burns my lips
smoke scratches my throat
whishing for release
lose it, keep it tucked in forever
though I feel, finally
alive
I want to punish myself
I lose control for good
emotions bundle up to the surface
make up for time lost before
drunk texting
regret in the morning after
I need to express myself
to you, to anyone, get it out
there is no one here

Weltschmerz
pain of the world
all in one
tiny little heart so fragile
I'm made up of stories

My friend can I come over
I'm in that mood again