I love to be sad.

I adore heaviness in my chest as I inhale.

Nothing makes my heart beat as loud and as strong as sadness.

I feel so alive when hot salty drops of pain slide down my cheeks.

Sorrow is a beautiful thing,

so full of love and care towards undeserving things.

Heartbreak is but an open wound filling us up with life.

I've never felt so raw and relevant in this world.



Happiness can be so numbing,

constant smiling and genuine warmth will dry out your heart like a raison.

Sorrow is moving,

desires broken in two million pieces,

hidden under bones of victims and their killers.

What good can come from a constant state of euphoria?



I love to be sad,

for the dead and then living,

for the living who are dead from ecstasy in life.

I may be nobody,

but in that I am infinite,

and in forever I am sorrow.

Constant and gentle upon quiet matters of the heart.