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Poem

I have an aura of a purple ambience. . . 
           a woebegone . . . forlorn essence and perfume 
        my painful past is a heavy dark cloak
     I am subdued and solitary
             memories haunt
my days and nights

          my brooding nimbus is who I am and
I accept this cloud of sadness that is me
        it surrounds me like a vapor 

      like a vampire who thirsts for blood
        I thirst for my grief and for all those I loved
so I never forget what love is
and that I was truly loved by many once
            upon a time

sometimes the vapor of sadness that surrounds me
          is like a hued purple gauzy cloud quite beautiful 
others have seen it and remarked and I have seen it too 

you may think me a lonely and unhappy girl
        but I am not really though admit I am quite moody
          I tend to brood, and ponder too much
      getting hurt easily is my history
        but it is the incense of my character
                   I thirst for silence like a need
    oh, without this brooding feeling could I write . . .  poetry
for to write . . .  I must reach deep into the darkness
              deep into my soul . . .  for the words

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