remains of a harpoon.

appreciate the sadness.

it's sad.
i can't write about my happiness.
well, i can.
and i certainly do try,
but it's not the same.
looking back at it caused me to feel uncomfortable, as if it's not even my own writing.
maybe that's because it's so much different with heartbreak.
with that, i can tell you how her absence felt like a knife in my chest. each mention of her name causing it to twist and turn.
or how my father disowning me caused me to feel like i'm nothing more than a charity fund than an actual daughter.
how my grandfather's death taught me at a very young age that life will take away your happiness and safety with no mercy.
and if my best writings is at the cost of my own heartbreak,

then bring on the pain, baby.