Thursday, August 14, 2014

She awoke each morning with the desire to do right
To be a good and meaningful person
To be as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was
And during the course of each day her heart swell. 
By early afternoon she was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right
Or nothing was right for her
And by the desire to be alone. 
By evening she was fulfilled alone with the grief
Alone in the guilt. 
I am not sad
She would repeat to herself over and over
I am not sad. 
As if she might one day convince herself. 
Or fool herself. 
Or convince others
That the only thing worse than being sad
Is for others to know that you are sad. 
I am not sad. 
I am not sad. 
Because her life had unlimited potential for happiness
In so far as it was an empty white room. 
And each morning she would wake with it again
Having become a little heavier
A little weaker
But still pumping. 
And by the mid afternoon 
She was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else
Someone else
Someone else 
Somewhere else. 
I am not sad.

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