On sadness and grief

Isolation is a crevice in my head, where my thoughts like to dwell and dawdle when grief seeps. Grief seeps, it doesn’t pour. It does not pour like the rain- heavy and dark, then clear and clean when the sun moves out. It seeps slow, smooth and soft. It fills in like the kind of…

The difficulty.

The difficulty in being good weighs heavier on a broken soul... . Is it so? Or am I simply seeking an escape from the effort to be good? .