My old friend Sorrow visited me today.
She came to me unexpectedly, it was a beautiful surprise.
We talked about the past, the present, the future. And she pet my hair, feeding on the ashes of my sanity as I sobbed into her lap quietly.
Her cold presence made me shiver and weep over all my pain. For her influence causes me to acknowledge all of my frustrations, imperfections, and mistakes.
In front of her, I cannot pretend to be happy. For her name is Sorrow, being that her very purpose is entitled to allow me to feel what's in my heart and speak what's on my mind.
She whispers poetic toxins into my ear and for a second I'm drunk on misery again.
My old friend Sorrow, it was a delight.
