Sad

Candles melted into stumps;

Broken piano keys;

Arriving late-

Missing something-

Missing someone;

these are the things that make me sad. 

Lost pearls of wisdom;

Aid buried in cement;

Pity for the damnable;

these are the things that make me cry. 

I don't know why I'm also so

sad;

I don't know why

im aware of the hollowing feeling in my chest

when a child runs after a parent

or a balloon floats up and out of the atmosphere. 

I don't know why

I cry because of a movie-

of something not real-

I don't know why I cry because of me-

something that was real

but is now a hollow shell. 

I don't know why my nose feels cold

and my eyes start to water

when it rains-

or someone compliments me. 

I don't know why I'm sad. 

I guess I've always been so. 

Under the covers,

sadness in tow, 

writing my everything

in a book I kept below. 

I guess it's always been this way

Tired and sad, that's what I say. 

Sadness is icy and grey

like slate;

or the warm dirt

that'll calmly seal my fate;

a life well lived-

by a sad girl.