I want to scream at the top of my lungs

"Help me, I'm drowning in my sadness"

But I don't think it would make
much of a difference

I say that I want to be happy
and that I want these feelings to leave,
but in a way I think  I'd miss them.

There is something comforting in the fact that
no matter where I am
or what happens
I will always be full of sadness.

As strange as it may seem,
there is a certainty in it
that is pleasurable to experience.

In the chaos that is life,
there is a predictability
that accompanies these feelings
that provides some form of security
in an otherwise insecure world.

Sitting under a willow tree by a river,
the shadows of the leaves cast by the midday sun
dappling against my skin,
tracing the patterns with my finger

The serene quiet,
pleasantly tainted
only by the water trickling down
and birds singing their sweet tales

My racing mind
slowing to a gentle meander,
my worries fly away with the sparrows
and my sadness flows gently down the stream

Curling my toes in the warm grass,
sketch pad resting in my hand
the crisp white sheets beckon me closer,
I smile then answer them

The waves of sadness wash over me,
All at once
Then nothing.

Every last drop of emotion has been washed away,
And I have been left
Empty.

Alone we stand,
Isolated and alone on the edge of destruction
Desperately clinging to something,
anything to keep us anchored
to the misery we call life.

We all seek someone
to call our own,
to fill the emptiness that lies within our soul
and to make us feel
that life is worth living again.

So we endure the pains and tribulations
of day to day life,
in the hope that our suffering
will be rewarded by someone
holding a light to break up the dark.

I pray that these things that we chase so desperately
do in fact exist,
as if life consists of is this constant numbness
sinking deeper and deeper towards our cores
and nothing more,
then we may as well be done with it
once and for all.