Satisfyingly Miserable, Vividly Alive

For as long as I can remember
I have been aimlessly wandering through my life sentence on Earth;
an existential dread looming over me like a nimbus.
Some days I trudge the path protected. 
Others, I am drenched, 
moments away from being swept into the drains with the leaves and debris.

I often find myself focusing on only the rain,
never content with the umbrella keeping me shielded from it.

Satisfyingly miserable.

What is life without gloom–my dearest friend?

I hide it well, keeping it close to me.
Careful to only show those capable of witnessing it.
But sometimes the depression grows,
manifesting into something greater, 
something all consuming,
and impossible to conceal.
There is nothing to stop it from pouring out of me,
It steals the pink from my cheeks, turning me into a dull gray.
The pattern held, without fail–thrusting me into a loop.


Before you came along. 


You've taken up residence inside of my heart, 
burrowing yourself in, 
making yourself at home.

This welcomed intrusion frequently causes the rain cloud to evaporate.
Though, the umbrella stays alert, ready. 

You discovered a faulty wire, 
dangerously close to the water, 
and repaired it with diligence and ease. 

I am refurbished, transformed.
Still me, but who is she–without the downpour of shadow?

Disoriented by the feelings of joy feasting on my interior, 
bleeding out vibrant color, 
staining everything it touches.

Vividly alive.

And of course, you stay.
Of course you understand.
For the storm follows you.