I look back to this path of
words and lines and
unfinished works and all I can see is
sadness and heartbreak

it's an odd revelation,
realizing all you've ever
felt strongly enough to write about
was love and pain

there's so many other feelings in the world
so many other stories
but the only ones I can tell
are the ones that have made me want to die in the end

if that isn't sad
I'm not sure what is.