Litkicks Message Board Archive

a connected prose i found

Posted to Poetry




i have had my happy days and i have spent some of those days preferably sad. sullen like a winter leaf brooding for spring. feelings of uncontentedness are never satisfied. that life is more fair for me, i know. but sometimes i can't help but want to die. even when someone's impossibly holding my hand there's something creeping in me that sends us both shivering for something else. sad is when you find out that most of the people aren't even nearly ever as sad as you