At the end of the day,
It is sadness that makes my legs buckle.

Sadness is always mild, I used to say.
It’s soft, compared to the raging pain of other emotions. It’s bearable.

I imagine it as a blanket;
something that doesn’t trigger anxiety
the moment it is wrapped around me,
but this sadness, it wraps around my soul, like a heavy blanket, weighing me down.
How do I not panic?

I feel heavy: my mind, my heart and my soul are too heavy for my legs.

My mind has become a vast space,
harboring a collection of thoughts I keep fiddling with, as if I can untangle them,
as if that will make them fade away.

My heart is brimmed with overflowing emotions, emotions lined up,
awaiting their turn; eager to embrace,
determined to linger.

And my soul,
enveloped in the blanket of sadness.


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