the saddest part
of being happy
is having nothing
to write about.
sadness
on sadness
the thing about sadness
is that you can’t give it away-
it’s yours to own.
but that doesn’t mean you
should keep it
so let it come and let it go,
just like the currents
and don’t forget
you’re the whole goddamn ocean.
Never
there’s a quiet sadness in goodbye, in the see-you-later’s in life that are always justified but never guaranteed. and yet.
I pack my bags and don’t look back, my eyes focused on the infinite line of the horizon, searching for what’s ahead without regretting the tears left behind
on cobblestone streets and plain white sheets, on airplane seats and empty rooms where many times I’ve found myself alone but never lonely.
because sadness is what you make of it
the question of self-pity.
Dark
“Is she alright? Her writing is so dark these days!” they say
Because they think I should not speak about lust
love
sadness
and death
“She’s too pretty for that!”
And little do they know
that’s pretty much all life is.
Lucid
Drunk with sleep
Been spending my days
forcing these lucid dreams
to take shape,
forcing my words
to have some meaning
other than this
sadness
you left me with.
