Poems on Sadness - Blackout Poetry Notes

Standoffish Type

I am afraid that
the standoffish type
is the only kind I love.

In the silence
a heart beat heavily,
brooding
was her best state.

You aren't here.
You're a dream evaporated.
A hurt winding
in the ruins of me.

Under that icy veneer
of jealousy
was an apparent
expression of love.

She was a lonely bird
full of unchanging melancholy.
She felt a terrible appeal
to detach from everything.

To be so wrapped up
in self,
is dangerous: self pity
and sense of woe
betray you.

Barren
and weary of money -
a death Americanized.
How weary the world was.

You make me
happy enough,
somehow.

You are a stranger
living
by yourself;
no one to love.

I grew irritable and restless,
confined
to narrow loneliness:
sullen and silent
in a sleep
eternally.