I’m swallowing my sadness and it feels like I’m swallowing you.
Heavy and cold it slips down my throat, and for some reason I can’t. Stop. Drinking.
Is it nourishing, this lump?
Is it weighty because it’s full of desire and unsaid saids?
Is it my path-to-salvation-my-guiding-light-my-angel-teaching-me-lessons?
Or is it just Sad?
Or is it nothing that I have made into something?
I think I’ll go with that.
I think I’ll go with happy.
I think I’m writing the Gospels of myself.