I write best when I'm sad.
Maybe because I'm being more honest with myself in these moments.
But I think about everything.
About how many seconds it takes for air to consume every inch of my lungs.
About why raindrops fall together but are always seperate drops.
About how the weather can change a person.
About how many colors we have yet to experience.
But I cannot say I hate being sad.
Sometimes it gives me peace.
Because being sad is better than feeling nothing.
And most days I wouldn't flinch at a knife in my lungs.