Sad

I am sad. Really sad. That all encompassing darkness washing over me in an overwhelming wave of comprehension of just how much I feel.

I don't want you to know that I am sad because that's not attractive. I paper over the cracks of my emotions and muster the last notions of self-control to be happy. It doesn't work. I know. And you know.

I get stoned and drunk to numb the pain. I stumble around in my stillies being unreasonable, weird and sketchy.

But really. I am just being sad. And vulnerable. And hating the fact that I am that way because I want to be strong, and smart, and sassy and always the one with the last word.

But you make me that way because I am all but open myself with you. A trembling shivering flesh of honesty. And I like it that way even if it hurts sometimes. I spent half of my life being someone else and I don't want to be like that anymore.

I suppose we are all just a bunch of sinners, crashing around in the dark. And I am still looking for the light switch.