There is a sadness within me.
I carry a heaviness that on good days I barely notice.
But on the bad days– oh, how it pulls me down.
There is a melancholy I hold.
Sometimes I’m not even quite sure why
I don’t just let it go.
But other days I know
I would be someone completely different
If my hands weren’t dirty, cut, and bruised
From holding onto the memory of you.
There is a sadness that clings to me
And wraps me up in a familiar dampness
That sometimes chills my bones and gives me the flu.
And while so many will never know,
Always those moments pass
And I once again find a warm glow.
—Written by Sandy heights