Decisions

I have decided I enjoy this journaling to the nothingness.
Perhaps I will find in these tepid fingers a few words
to manipulate and coax, wield and petition politely.

I have no sense of how they come or when they decide to go,
but I wanted to let you know,
they will be here for awhile.

Joy

I was having a conversation with my mother recently, and she commented on my writing, noting that none of it was joyful. I was unsettled with this comment. In reading through my past poems and short stories, I understood the confusion. I used emotionally evocative wording, and uncomfortable subject matter. However, what I found to be useful as a comparison (against to a black sheet of paper, the white looks whiter) she found to be simply sad.