Smile a broken smile

I know you are waiting, precariously drifting. I know you would rather have it different, have it tamed to suit you. You beg for it to be just a little easier, somehow a little less burdensome, a load less heavy to carry. The back is breaking, the spirit is cracking. Only the outline is visible, the silhouette of what once was. You are mistaken, but do not realize it. You are too confident of the whole you perceive as indestructible. At times it is of pivotal importance to let go, surrender, feel the backlash of standing resolute against the storm, feel the physical pain of the beating rain. We must all learn. Learn to immerse ourselves in the quiet sadness, learn to listen to silence, learn to move in stillness.

This is my secret. This is how I see the world, how I make sense of the things happening around me. These things are what make every day real. There is no better propellant; there is nothing more powerful than looming sadness to knock me out of stillness. I surrender to sadness, gracefully bow, hand down all my weapons and allow the truest, kindest human emotion to run through me. And stay. Stay uninterrupted; stay warm, cushioned and homely forever. Capture the heart, capture the head and like an echo bring back the parts that were thought to be lost. I am finally saved. This, what guides me, this, what keeps me on course, this, what teaches me to be better. No other has the power to jerk me out of apathy, to stop the tidal pull.

Pain is an intoxicating feeling, one that makes me want more just as I scream for less. I cherish this dependency, would never change it for anything. Sadness brings meaning, enriches the dull, inconsequential days. It is only through profound sadness that I am moved enough to tilt over and reveal something of myself. Intimate and sad, intimately sad, saddened thus intimate. I am chained, it is a sweet captivity, one that rewards beyond comprehension. One that constantly blesses, sends an invisible welcome home my way.

No other feeling but sadness has the capacity to make me want to live more. The cowards take no notice, hide in well dug holes or badly light caves to escape the wrath of sadness. Not me. Not ever. I offer my all, gladly offer all that I can so that I may get to feel moved, inspired by the deepest most desolate moments that descend like a tight web on the days. The nights. The sadness feeds me like no other. It stirs me the way nothing else can. It whispers ideas, witty remarks, words that sit combined in a unique fashion to amaze. In the mirror of sadness I catch a glimpse of my true self. I see a smile, somehow broken, weak, trying to hide. I see a broken smile ready to take on the world, ready to admit that only sadness makes sense. Only sadness did ever make sense.