This desert cries dry tears
in remembrance of the vivid life
of a forest born of fears
and flowers springing from strife.

The ground here is cracked
and with peace razed
Each flower the dunes lack
dried in bright rays

of sunlight,
no canopy shield
as in the forest night
no words the desert yields.

Suffering rooted in each forest flower
beauty sprung from each drop of rain
The sun came, words more dry each hour
under each happy dune a new well of pain.

I wonder at myself
through this teary tempest
when I realize
that I've missed the pain.

Contentment left a break
in my entire self
as happiness gave way
to indifference, indifference to sorrow.

Sorrow is what it is
to be human
to bleed as I breathe
is what it is to live.

How I've missed the pain
I've longed for the grasp
of fear's fingers 'round my neck.

How I've missed the pain
Yearned for the urge
to hurt on purpose, let it out.

How I've missed the pain,
the satisfaction in a night of tears
the pain,
inability to see through the years
the pain,
the agony, panic, stress
the pain,
loneliness, fury, self-hatred, yes,
How I've missed the pain.

Agony, grief, sorrow, pain
for 'tis just clarity by another name
And as it cripples it show me how
"happiness" is but an obscuring cloud.

Through this window
I see her take the cup
and I wonder how she
could, once again
fall for the same poison

My thoughts continue
to run to you, mistaken
Is this what we are?

Mere memories, mere
fantasies, sources of pain
for one another?

Will our thoughts wander
in a different direction
once in a while?

For we'll continue
to find distractions
from what we call "love".