It’s ridiculous, how sad poetry greatly outranks happy poetry. As if we’ve been hard wired to recognise negative imagery as the best poetry. All the best poets die young, right? They must’ve been onto something.
But I am trying to lace my words with so much kindness that it will leak through the page and stain the hands of anyone who reads it. To lighten the weight on someone’s shoulders. To inflate their lungs with contentment. Maybe this is how I can change the world.