upset

All of my life has been about loving people who end up doing terrible things to themselves and others.

I don't just mean romantic love either. I'm talking about friends and family.

I survive, of course, but at what price?

And what if I were the one who was setting himself on fire while others watched in horror? Is there anyone there to put it out for me?

I escape into the fantasy constructs of poetry, painting, and playing music. When I come out of hiding, I squint my eyes because I can't deal with the harshness of the light.

I'm feeling fine. It's the world that's upset.