There's a sadness
and I always know when she's coming.
She's on the door, asking for some space
"I don't need a lot, just a little bit", she whispers.
No answers.
She starts to scream.

I'm always caught up trying to decide if I let her in or throw her out. She always catches me at this very point, when it's usually too late: I'm back in the grave.

It's a ocean of feelings, of nostalgics old times, of who I was, who I want to be and who I'm becoming. It's slowly making me float at the same station: Me.

She caught me. I'm hers.
I'm trying to be healthy and happy and wish happiness for everyone... But this bravery, my dear... How could I?

It turns out that, night falls like this I  don't seem to have the strength to fight it. There's just sadness. She caught me. I'm hers again.