Sometimes sadness feels
like your home

like laying down after work
and feeling your muscles fail

laying face down on the floor
dog hair and all

a familiar sadness
a tired sadness

like just giving up
because what's the point

Why try?

when your efforts
were all in vain

when it's given for a moment
but ripped away the next

I'm done with this painful dance
I'm done being a puppet

a puppet bleeding in the wind
an exhausted and torn rag

that's always been there to shelter
and dry you off

at least I tell myself
that I'm done

it's like a prisoner
saying they're a free man

I just hope
the guards take pity