Oh the heft....

I don't know this poem by heart, but some days parts of the poem pop into my head because they are so dead on. Emily Dickinson was good at what she did. I've been in a bit of a melodramatic mood lately or maybe all my life. Hard to tell.

Sometimes I think I like being depressed, there is a certain comfort and familiarity to the feeling. Sometimes I think I should give myself a big kick in the rear for even indulging it. Life has a tendency to feel oppressive, it's beautiful yet heavy at the same time.


There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons—
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes—

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are—

None may teach it—Any—
'Tis the Seal Despair—
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air—

When it comes, the Landscape listens—
Shadows—hold their breath—
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death—