Sadness hovers over me like the Sun. A sun that will not let the son run. I feel it, a weight on my shoulder. I see it even if I don’t see myself. Walking through shadows that do not exist. I walk this earth inside of me. Sadness is my shield, my comfort, my soul. I walk hand and hand with it. It is all I know.

Can I find the edge of my pain. The boundary line where it ends, it finally ends. Is there a shadow that tells me so? That lets me know my feet may rest. And yet I cannot imagine not feeling your hand. The hand of sadness where it all began.

I write till my fingers bleed onto the keys. Writing because I do not know a song. The song to make it go away. Beside my hand sits the drink of the day. A shallow glass filled to the brim with feelings. I pause my fingertips for a second to watch my ice cubes die. Watching them be released from the pain of existence, I feel their pain now. I drink their emotion and let the warmth flow back to my waiting fingers. They return to the course of the day.

Give me a song and I’ll give you a line. Give me a heart and I’ll give you a soul. Take my sadness away and I am but a shell. Because without the pain we don’t know the reality. The reality that each moment is pain in some way. Without the sadness we can’t know happiness. It all comes around. It has to come around.





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