idk why but
there's a creeping sadness ringing inside my head half of it all could defeat me half of it i escape by the virtue of art. days blink past me when I forget about the sorrow. but it's not gonna go now
it stays with me through the morning sunlight and the evening breeze.
i lay a hand for help from the outside world,
warmth from someone close
but alas nobody sees it
nor does anybody want to
but that's not their fault.
and what keeps knocking my head is that I cannot even say what it really is. no trauma I can point at, no wound i can think of
only this heaviness that seems to grow in places nobody can reach
but if I am being honest
most of this sorrow wears my own name
i let it grow inside me i let it consume me i let it start and go on and on
in the promises i made to my self
and broke in silence
the endless self talk
my mind thinks too much.
then thinks about thinking
then watches itself drown in the very thoughts it created
i tell myself I'll begin tommorow i tell myself tonight will be different i build entire sunsets in my head
disciplined verions of me. but I never do.its hard.
the constant negotiations, the exhausting conversations with myself, the invisible wars the guilt
and so i escape to the things that do not ask questions
music,skies,films,pages, late night thoughts.
because art has never asked me to pretend lighter than i was.
but how far can i escape
now the song ends, the movies go,the room grows honest again
and there I am
getting tired of carrying it alone