There is sadness in me
It's in my bones, no
It does not cling to them
It's who I am

Always at the root.
Sadness.

Why is it like this?

I just want to be achingly happy, every cell of mine

Screaming, "I'VE DONE THE WORK, NOW LET ME PLAY"

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If I could sit here and spin my words
Into anything of substance,
I would put into effect the
Most Beautiful
symphony of words
The world had ever seen, and the
Light in it would be known far and wide

But here I lay,
Completely unmagnificent
In my drawers.

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Beauty in pain,
Pain in beauty.

No.
I reject that.

Beauty in love,
In happiness and full hearts.

Pain is cold and dark and ugly.

Why do we glorify its dungeon?

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The sweet smell of the grass and rain,
The chorus of birds, rain and music,
It all mixes into a joyous dish of life

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You draw past me, stopping my breath in my chest.

I feel the quakes as you float closer,
Every cell in my body drifting towards you and
Sinking
At the same time.

I want to grab your wrist
But where do I begin?
I don't even know who I am anymore.

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The tremors are constant,
Whether I shake or not.

My heart undulates its rhythm,
A constant alert system turning on and off.

I feel my hackles raise,
Searching for a fight.

But there's nothing.

It's just me

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I run my hand through my hair and pull it away
For some reason I expect to see blood?

Hemorrhaging all over,
I can't stop it.

Won't someone help me?

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