Hey hey, children, I'm lonely again.

It is difficult to be frank. I have spoken in metaphors for so long. I have been here before, the rare phases when I grow sick of my own verbosity, and force myself to vomit out my emotion in as bland of prose as I can muster. I can't help it.

I suppose that I resort to metaphor because I cannot express it any other way. How do I tell you that I am sad? Sad cannot begin to describe it. Language elevates it to the inner drama that plays out up here in my skull. What would you gain from common banter?

"How are you?"
"Sad."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I just am."

Beautifully articulate.