The Rain On Monday

Written words are the only thing my mind can find ease in.

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54. Sadness

Sadness was the blood that ran through my veins – fueling my existence.

It was addicting to see that sadness pour out of my flesh, knowing that for all the sadness lost, more would replace it by the morning.

I guess that was where I went wrong – because somewhere along the way I got so caught up in my sadness, that it seemed almost inevitable for it to be taken away.

I bet you’re wondering how someone could get so addicted to something that only made everything around you crumble, until you had nothing left to lean on.

Nobody really has ever figured an answer for that question out yet, because the ones who’ve been through it can’t explain and the ones who are curious don’t care.

The sadness that has swamped my body has yet to stop.

In the meantime, I guess I’m left waiting for the day when I don’t have to slice open my skin to release this plague, because it’ll already be gone.

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