Do you know misery? I do. It lives inside my body like a parasite and gnaws at the edges of lost dreams, leaving crumbs in its wake while its stomps upon frailty. Misery doesn't have to wonder about the colorlessness of life, when what it sees and experiences is already black and white.
The heaviness of misery resides on the shoulders, on bright sunny days it's like heavy weights and boulders. It refuses to let go, as it stumbles through the wreck and ruin of a life that was once fortunately golden.
Misery is also a drunk, an addiction of the senses, swaying back and forth between isolation, starvation and devastation, never interested in making consensus.
A compromise between misery and hope is like a sinking ship without a hole. There is no cause for it's demise and yet it sinks with ever remaining optimism: "I will float!" the ship exclaims before being swallowed whole.
I've known misery in sunshine.
I've known misery in rain.
Misery is for all seasons and it has near to no shame.
The only thing that will destroy it, will wear it down until it bleeds, is when you decide to wonder what misery truly brings.
As you sit there hopeless, wondering about what to do.
