"We Must Be Mad"
It must be madness
the way we let
thing devour us,
the way we let
the things we want out
back in.
and the horror of it all
is this:
we stay attracted
to everything that hurts.
We cling to it
and never really learn
to let go.
so perhaps,
we do want happiness,
but we also desire to keep
the pain close.
close enough to destroy us,
close enough to define us
and close enough
to make us feel
a little less cold.
YOU ARE READING
BLACK BUTTERFLY
PoetryI recently went to a bookstore and decided to write down it's poems: by ROBERT M. DRAKE. BLACK BUTTERFLY.
