Winter Heart

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Despair.

Sadness so deep and grey that nothing can penetrate it. Neither herb nor drink can chase it away; neither love nor laughter can hold it at bay.
What am I that my heart should be so torn; what did I do to deserve to be so forlorn?
The tears gather in my eyes but I cannot let them fall – what would that bring me since I have no one at all?
I sing I dance I love – but to what end when i cannot reach above?
My head is heavy and my heart is weighed down; what is there in this world for me but a frown?
Where do they come from, these tears that I cannot shed? No more – I am getting lost i my head.

Melancholia.

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“And Never The Twain Shall Meet”

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Just like parallel lines never meet, I think we are destined to forever miss each other.
Even if it’s missing each other only by a hair’s breadth, it’s still not meeting.
The phrase that keeps coming into my mind is “two ships passing in the night“. But we’re not that, are we? We’re more two ships caught in a whirlpool that’s going nowhere
-instead of spiraling downward letting us eventually crash into each other. At least that would be a meeting. Of sorts.
-stuck in an always repeating maelstrom of passion and tears. Dancing a morbidly unending dance, chasing yet never catching each other, a neverending circle  thought of which makes me want to lay down and cry for my mother. Literally.
I see you. You see me yet we can’t reach each other.
What will it take to end this?