I wish only to walk in the rain.
As life thunders around me
imperfection after imperfection
(often mine)
I wish for peace.
And I wish to walk in the rain.
Tag: Sorrow
Categories
Cruel Deception
What is this sorrow?
It is a shared siren
wailing through the silver
of our human chain.
But darling, you say.
You must smile,
you must
find the joy beyond
the day.
The heart cries
when the heart cries.
A smile
to hide the pain
is but a cruel deception.
Categories
Keep Stepping
How dear you are to this world,
you must never forget.
How days cannot be
as they should be
without you.
Keep stepping.
My heart has been closed, and so I have been away from this place.
I’ve been well aware of my differences in the world, well aware of the sorrow within the walls of lace and sun that I call ‘me’.
My truth will always be a sweet and soft sorrow. It’s really quite lovely; please don’t feel sad for it.
And yet, it is lonely, and home only to me.
I wonder what lives within the hearts of the others.
Categories
What is Sorrow
For,
what is sorrow
but a moment of joy
left unattended.
I’m sad tonight.
To write is the only pill I have.
I heard some news today that broke my heart, and here it is in my hands as I stand beside the world and become the sky.
Empty as the sky. Blue as the sky. Open as the sky.
How I wish I could give the words back, never to have heard them.
I see you, love, peeking around the corner.
Hold me now, in this sorrowful place.
Categories
Sadness in The Corner
There is sadness in the corner.
A beautiful sadness that calls to me, many a day, and I can’t help but follow. I can’t help but wonder why.
When life is ever so dear, and joy is found sweetly in the eyes of the ones I love, why is the sadness in the corner? When the rest of the room is flooded with colour; the corner.
Why is it aching, why is it grey?
Whole and beautiful life is here,
but the corner.
Why is there sadness in the corner?
I do not want this war.
This softness, I am.
I do not want this
war.
And yet, it flows
where peace seeks to be.
And yet, aggression is
somehow,
the twisted arm
of this peaceful river.
Must we simply flow?
There is a tear in my soul.
They want me to smile,
all the time, they want me to be fine,
this world.
But I am not
(though I am.)
There is a weeping tear.
A wound unhealed and breaking
ever deeper,
every day.
I will tell you this:
I am fine.
And I am,
six colours of the rainbow, fine.
The seventh colour.
It is a golden tar.
An aching soul,
searching.
An aching child
within the hardened walls
of a happy one.
It is raining, and I am alone.
And there is sorrow in these parts, and knowing that life is terrible and beautiful, all at the same time.
I am alive with all of that.
I am alive with the sorrow and all the quiet of all the world.
I shall drink some coffee.
I shall drink it well, and hold my cup with love.
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