If I gave you my soul, would you read each page? Scribble notes of interest and know me. Would you take the time, to help tape the seams? Would you mend, the fragility of my soul? It tears and rips, easily, emotionally.
there’s the kind of sadness we ignore and try to get rid of it by finding new things to do or we find someone to talk to by blatantly avoiding any type of conversation about feeling sad about having any feelings at all and then there’s that kind of sadness that takes over and it consumes any activity we do we know it’s there and there’s no possible way to avoid it so we feed it exactly what it wants it craves the sad music it craves the isolation it craves the anxiousness and the sadness comes storming in it has no manners here we are calling sadness, an “it” when all it is is a feeling that most people call home