Peoples say that sadness
Comes from the heart,
When it has been shattered
And beaten so badly
That it rests in pieces
In your chest.
This sadness is different,
It doesn't rest in my heart
But rather in my lungs.
It grasps my throat
Closing it tightly so that
No screams
No cries for help
No sobs
Not even air
Comes out.
A broken heart sadness
Will begin to mend itself
Until it is a beautiful heart
Once more.
But this sadness,
The one which sits in my lungs
This sadness is trying
To kill me.
