Sad Girl, Write Till You Are Righted

Awake to an inbox not overflowing,
But drowned
In sadness.

Despair,
A close second.

Tho oft I rise to/o that awoken-swollen-emaciated river,
Somehow your ache, worse than mine.

I figured out why.

If we write of it,
It some degree lessened.
So when I gift you my words,
It gifts me easement some in return.

But reading thy cries, an exercise,
Teeth-gnashing frustration.
It brings no relief.

So sad girl,
Write till you are righted,
May be it will snow on July 4th,
And tho unnatural,
So is thy grief.

Nonetheless, write me write me all about it,
Right us,
For tho snow falls, its loveliness,
Makes the heart rise up in gladness!