If I could tell you about fear I could find the words to hold onto myself.
There are days when the world turns dark, when my thoughts burn
like ransom. And I am neither here nor there. There is a word for it,
depression. Do I want to sound too crazy? No. But it is beautiful poetry.
Can suffering be beautiful. Yes. But I don’t advise it. Invest in flowers.
And let others invest in you.
September 