Happy

“are you always this happy?”

“do people even need to tell you to smile?”

“yellow is your favorite color?”

“it would be, you optimist.”

 

and how can i not be?

if you only knew the thunder and lightning

that rumble in my chest,

the panicked feeling of displacement–

i have to leave i need to leave.

there’s also pangs of sadness and longing

and a clawing need to rest.

i endure dragging fights

of sleepless nights,

with no energy, none at all.

i pace at three in the morning,

terrified to no means end–

no end, no end

that i will never sleep again.

and i cry because i’m tired,

and i cry because i’m sad,

and i cry because i miss and reminisce

the days i used to feel at peace.

 

i am not always happy,

but i want to be.

because you want to be.

because everyone wants to be.

so i choose to be.

 

no one tells me to smile.

i just think of my favorite people,

and i think of love.

i think of my loved ones, happy.

and i can’t help but smile,

because i don’t like the feeling when i’m not.

 

and yellow is my favorite color,

because of the sun.

because the sun is light,

and the sun makes me think of the beach side.

and the sun is the absence of night,

(therefore, the absence of panicked insomnia fights).

and in the daytime,

i can be. i can be.

and i want to be optimistic,

so i choose to be.

because anxiety wants me not to be.

and i really, truthfully, want to be as happy

as i appear to be.

-April 2017

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