Tears Upon Depiction II

 

For example...

  The word "Sadness". So simple. Basic. 

      Elementary. 

  Yet, when I search her sister's, 

None of them quite rings the same. 

Sadness. 

   Sits in my chest. Pulls up a chair. 

 Turns on the Soapbox. 

It is not dysphoria 

  Of grief. 

  It is not melancholy 

     Or sorrow. 

Heartache? Mourning? Anguish? 

  No....

  It is duller than that. 

Distemperance, 

  Not yet Despondancy. 

Depression in minor lulls 

  and Major keys. 

  It is grieving 

When the TV or her Fraternal Twin, Music 

  Sneak up on a bleakness underneath,

Become tangibly palpable in my tastes; 

  Salivating as beneath something shakes 

      The ache 

     Loose. 

  That is when Torrential Downpours- 

Take Sadness's place. 

  It becomes a Somatic review 

and Tankless dive.  An Ache so deep and tight, 

  Your chest feels like it is going to capsize. 

Then...

  It is Sadness no longer. 

Paddling through the dive. 

  It is a swim through underworld waters. 

After bearing the feeling that you have died.