Josephine Leshiini
Literary Colonel
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Melancholy is the happiness of being sad.

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You the are the hurricane’s muse. What chance did I even have?

It hurts. It hurts to be your nothingness.

“All I found was melancholia etched deep in my bones and all I could ever do was to live with it for the rest of my life unless I broke my bones one by one.”

Maybe you might see one day, how I loved you from afar, over the years. Maybe you might hear one day, all I’ve done is write about you.

When I said goodnight, I did not mean goodbye.


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