N U D E - poetry of an unquiet mind ✓

xv. melancholy, my old friend

melancholy, my old friend

Sort of empty, sort of hollow,
Nothing caused by a single sorrow.
This feeling lies deep in my chest,
Solid and heavy - sort of compressed.

Sort of needy, sort of longing,
Caused by a tedious need for belonging.
This feeling lies deep in my gut,
Cratered and unfilled - sort of in a rut.

Sort of sad, sort of depressed,
Laughing cause my mom thinks I'm possessed.
This feeling lies deep in my bones,
Drained and tired - sort of alone.

Sort of alive, sort of hoping,
Cause it's the only thing that keeps me coping.
This feeling lies deep in my brain,
Sound and unfazed - sort of sane.

Don't worry about me, it's just a few days,
Then I promise - I'll be sort of okay.

// R.M.