I was shaking
staring at the damp cracked ground, avoiding your eyes at all costs

The weight of my thoughts pushing me over and making me hunch

I said a lot of dumbed down things that I didn't really mean
because I didn't think you would understand
or care, really

I did everything I could to keep you as far away as possible

"I'm just.. a tired person. Complex. I have a lot of things going on, yeah."

"Can you tell me about it?"

It kind of caught me off guard, most people don't try that hard to know me

"There's not much to me."
Simple, something I assumed you'd take at face value

"I want to know you.
Everything about you."

It scared me, like you were trying to hurt me or like you were trying to get some kind of twisted confession from me

I pushed those thoughts aside, because you aren't like that

With a slight chuckle I asked,
"Why on Earth would you want to know that?"

"Because I like you,"

I tried to avoid your face still,
But I couldn't help it

You must have had me under a trance

Every time you spoke my distance dissolved

"You okay?"

You smiled in the way that you do

I was smiling too

Then you took my hand

And for once in my life

There was no distance

my life is sadness

As if you didn't already know that,
I'm a teenager after all

But this isn't a poem about a sad wasted life

It's a bland poem about a sad artist

Nothing I can ever do will make it meaningful

There's no point to it

I can create,

Write some profound or empty poetry

Make some genius or contrived music

Paint some ugly or beautiful pictures

gentrify my sadness,

make it pretty
make it art

It doesn't make it anything more than a black hole

a black hole that throws out a portrait of a boy with a million eyes that can't see anything

I realise now
that sadness

no matter how much I dress it up

Is sadness

And even if it's pretty or artistic

it's never going to be more than that