I call for misery, but it does not come. It leaves me in a state of malaise, a state for which I do not have a passport to. You would think that depression, insignificance, or any of their ilk would be at ones beck and call. They are not invited to most places. They are the uncool kids who find out where the part was from a friend of a friend and crash it. I invited them. I even brought the alcohol and drugs, all they could use, and yet here I am all alone with apathy. I’m effed up!
My sadness
Why do you hide from me
Come out now
And tell me your story
Let the tears fall
And the words pour out
Tell the fears all
And tell all the doubts
Come out sadness
I am your friend
Come out sadness
Make amends