Sewn

I am so sad
most the time,
I dont see why.

I try to look at the positive,
every single instance, every single time.
But even when I see,
how happiness is in the distance;
Coming, and I can spot it,
I know I've felt it,
and I remind myself of the "how could I have even been sad?" moments
It never matters.
Because the down moments last longer,
they're worse,
they eat me.
Taking pieces out of my skin.

It's as if I was being chewed on,
then sewn up.
& every time I am sewn,
they say "all better now"
and it is better.
Until I am chewed on again.
Until I am told how good being sewn is,
again.

I am a tired ragdoll
being chewed and sewn,
chewed and sewn.
Pieces of me gone,
parts of me hanging, damaged,
but I keep going, I keep existing.
Just to be chewed again
sewn again.