I Once Made Sadness My Home

I once made her my home.

I would go there every day.

I memorized the cracks on the walls, 

The shadows dancing around flickering lights, 

The water leaking through the floor.

I took a walk through haunted hallways where I hung portraits of childhood wounds,

memories of past heartbreaks, 

mementos of loss and regret.

 

But like a child who outgrows her clothes

I no longer find comfort in being there.

Since then I've moved into another house where sadness visits me instead. 

Knocking at my front door, I receive her as an old friend.  

I open the door, extend my arms and give her:

A few minutes, a few hours, sometimes a few days. 

We talk about new heartbreaks and past wounds that still ache.

We also talk about lessons I have learned along the way. 

As she listens, she helps me heal slowly with

each 

passing 

day. 

And then when there's nothing left to be done and nothing left to be said, the time comes to say goodbye to sadness, till we meet again

another time, 

another day.