It's part of life, right?
Here's something I wrote a while ago about Sadness, personifying it as a woman I did not know.
I've noticed you before, over the years, the decades,
standing in the corner of those rooms,
passing out the door I was coming in,
walking down the street outside my house
with an umbrella and a dog
whether it was raining or not.
You are not unattractive--in fact, there was a certain
fascination about you in your calm and stoic look.
I liked that you would hold my glance when I would
look away, How I would remember your eyes before I slept.
It was you eyes, you know, that made me nod
and maybe even smile as we almost touched
in the hallways of my life. Nod and smile, that much
and never more before turning away to speak to another.
Your eyes troubled me,
frightened me, brought me night terrors,
because you saw into the soul of me and did not flinch.
Recently, our hands have almost touched, both reaching
for some cheese or a slice of melon at a party where we
both felt out of place. And I saw your eyes all new,
in a different way--and fear you less.
So I invite you into my home, my thoughts, my heart,
to learn what dreadful and healing things you have
to tell me, whisper into my tears and to feel you
lips against my own, kissing and tasting and giving life.