When I am sad
I get quiet

simple

Shake a little
on the inside
leaking to my hands

I get sad a lot
Hands shaking so I can barely write
Off somewhere inside
to some distraction
computer, ****, sleep, TV

There are no veins to open
words to fight
drugs to fix

Dying has a long-term contract

When I get sad
I get quiet

simple

Why do we go back to our saddest moments
when we need comfort
Maybe to bathe in tears...
a baptism
of rage
to blow the sides out of sorrow
to come to terms
with helplessness?

To get someone
to hear
maybe to listen
to loss?