Gently in these ragged folds
Curled up and warm like Easter’s child
A breath so faint
Angelic weight
I can’t deny
That I drift sometimes
Even in these loving moments
To summery fields I call my own
Where I can lie and in them feel
At one with my death
With limbs outstretched
I can’t deny
That I’m weak sometimes
Even in my strongest moments
And the way you cry at me
I don’t know why
You stay
This is how I feel and have felt since the age of 14...mid forties now ...I do wish to feel happy . I cannot shift the blackness but I have learned in some way to accept it.
I truly love Red House Painters. They capture the feeling of Saturday morning light and youth.Those beautiful 90’s mornings and best friends coming over to spend the night.Or those early 2000’s being in love, laying down on hillsides and watching fluffy clouds over head ,the sun warming your face. The smell of fresh cut grass, summer evenings and hearing laughter a far off.That simple and beautiful time, that we now have meditate enough to see it again among the fear and loss of the closest thing to innocence
The soundtrack to the worst period of my life circa 1997-98... 20 years down the road and listening to this now still makes chills run up and down my spine. Depression never really goes away, does it.