She is happy-
which is usually defined as
feeling or showing pleasure or contentment.
But for her it's a three way intersection at most
always watching as the others slowly creep up to it
never knowing when to show signs of advancement
hoping someone else's happy doesn't move too fast
and end up ruining hers.
Her happy is dangerous-
it's 2am pints of ice cream and
late night selfies because she's feeling great.
But don't **** with her happy
because when she is not-
she is contemplating
her ideals in the forms of narratives
that she can ruin you with.
It's lucrative, the happiness of hers.
She can wear it like the heart on her sleeve
or she can sell it like it's nothing-
auction it off to the bidder who needs it more than her.
Her happiness is selfless at best.
She never really knew what it meant to her
all she would ever feel is the lonely and the low
and the friends that they would bring around.
Things got pretty hazy before she found her happy.
But it's quick wit and inconsistent nature
makes it hard for people to stay.
The happy will run away with her lonely
and come back with her mania
all the while her contentment drinks wine
with her depression until it's a ******* party
and the only one she sees across the crowded room-
is confusion .
She fell in love with it at an early age
never knowing her true self
letting confusion take her out on dates
and show her things that only made him stronger-
but eventually the happy came back.
It made friends with the rest of the emotions
and lit her spirit on fire again.
She's never written a happy poem-
at least one that wasn't about love
and she knows it still exists somewhere
because happiness caught the hope
that was once so fleeting.
Her happy isn't just happy.
It's not just a single strand of emotion
inside her brain stem-
It is a mess.
A tragedy.
Summer days
and rainy weeks.
It is bipolar and mania to a tee-
new shoes and cold sweet tea.
Her happiness is insecure
a small child on the school bus for the first time
waiting to go back home
even though they just arrived.
Some days you see it clearly
others its like a smoke screen
sending caution to those who are surrounding.
My happiness is me-
describing it would be all too complicated
and depicting it in a manor lessor than me
would be an injustice.
My happiness is the justice system-
it never knows what the **** it is doing.
But I like it that way-
so lock me into solitary confinement
with just me and my happy
and watch me make a masterpiece out of misery.

I wonder when the hurt will stop-
when the thoughts of self-inflicted pain will lift
and I realize I cling to the things that cause me pain.
It's as if self-sabotage is my second nature
and my 6th sense is anxiousness.
This is all consuming.
The thoughts in my head will never fade-
the depression living in my bones
has made a home out of my skeleton again
and my heartbeat seems to be demanding refuge.
I wonder when my heart will get tired
of trying so hard to beat through this frail chest-
I am constantly trying my best.
Attempting to turn this anxiety into art
and this hopelessness into a canvas
but my mind is blank now.
The watercolor insecurity
has mixed with my acrylic insanity
and you should never mix two types of paint
but I was never one to follow rules
so this masterpiece turns into a mess
and eventually everyone is looking at my pain-
like **** this is so pretty
how she turns her sorrow into a sonnet
of metaphors and smilies
**** I wish I had her energy
her zest for turning nothing into something
and all the bad things into good ones.
But it's never that simple-
I must bare it all
become naked with my emotions
in front of a crowded room
and that is all I seem to ever do-
release my emotions for people
who don't know my story
they only know the way I have written it
the first person viewpoint of this tragedy.
I am a broken shell casing of who I was again-
It's been a while since I've seen this place
this cage, and felt this rage inside my bones
that sends me spiraling downward.
This place feels so ******* familiar-
almost comforting...
So I cling to this sense of solitude
and familiarity
as nostalgia creeps it's way into my neckline
and makes it way to my brain stem
I am sinking into oblivion again-
Alone is how it's always been for me
and as soon as lonely left
it headed to the ******* gym
lifted weights, did some squats
and came back stronger than ever-
I am now weak so lonely can take it's toll on me
it's trained for this all year
it's won a race I didn't really prepare for
and I am left in the dust again.
My eyes are tired from fighting through the waves
and my stomach doesn't take much to fill anymore.
I am aware this strength will not re-return over night
but I'm wondering if it will ever come back...
I am fighting for strength-
but all these thoughts inside my mind
make me weak at the knees again
and these bones can't only take so much breaking.
My heart hurts-
I am trying to numb the pain
and deal with the things I can
but some things just take time.
Time heals all wounds-
but wounds tend to leave scars
to remind you of the skin you lost in the process.
You will never forget what makes you bleed.

I hope the memory of you fades away eventually
but as I am laying in bed instead of counting sheep
I count the reasons you should be with me-
I count the things you do that reminds you of me
the traces I have left behind in your mind.
My eyes close.
1- I hope every time you play Mortal Kombat
you remember I was the one who convinced you to buy it.
and every time you lose you remember I was better then you.
2- Every song on the radio has my name etched in the background
and that saxophone solo you like so much spells out my name
in the crescendos as if it was the same tone of my ******.
3- When you lay awake at night stressing about work in the morning
as you're still high from the hits you take before laying down,
I hope you reach next to you in hopes to find my outline there-
I also hope you don't find it.  
4- in this journey of yours to find yourself again you are reminded it would've been better with me there, rooting you on with every single thing you accomplish.
5- I hope you lay awake at nice missing my voice telling you goodnight and missing my lips as they kiss you to sleep.
6-  I hope you remember I was your greatest lullaby and that you never slept as soundly as you did with me next to you.
7- and that all your ******* exes were just reminders of how much better you had it with me.
8- how you actually had something with me and not just an imaginary preconceived love you didn't have to put any effort into.
9- that you realize I wasn't something you actually did put a lot of effort into.
10- I am falling asleep finally as the anxiety fades from my memory and I remember I love having my bed to myself and not having to worry if you're thinking of me.

1- I roll over and the bear you bought me for christmas speaks to me in a voice I hardly remember. "I love you Amanda"
2- I'm half sleepy and I smile as the thought of you kissing my back and telling me goodnight creeps its way into my mind.
3- Loving you became the only thing I wanted to do right, everything else was just background music.
4- Loving you became the only thing I wanted to do right, but you thought you only did wrong so I became background music.
5- I am having anxiety again as the thought of you clouds my judgment and I begin to stop breathing again.
6- I can't see the figures in front of me or the images on the tv screen I am low again.
7- pacing back and forth in my room trying not ***** the thoughts of you out of my mind, get out of my mind.
8- I look in the mirror and realize this is what you did to me.
9- I was a frail excuse for a women, just longing for the same admiration I gave. I loved you differently than you loved me.
10- we never loved each other in the way we needed. I always felt like I loved you a little more. Like I was a little too much and you were never enough and that these hands could only grip yours in a certain way or would pull back and just put them in your pockets.
10- I hope you find me in those pockets and when your hands get sore from working too much that you remember I never made you work so much for this your hands hurt. I made you better. I made you worse.
10- I am cradled on the floor now hoping to find you there, but you're not.
10- I wonder how this is any different than when we were together.
10- I find myself repeating the same mistakes over and over again.
10- I just want to sleep. So instead of thinking of you, I start to count sheep and I realize those sheep were your disguise all along.
I am done letting the thoughts of you control me
we're not together-
and it makes me realize everything I've sacrificed for you.
I try to count sheep again.
but there aren't any left.

all people have ever done is hurt me-
I'm starting to think it's all my fault
and the only thing I'm good at
is letting people down.
I would love to drown my sorrows
in a whiskey bottle
and never wake up again-
but that part of me is dead.
The one who looks for escapes is gone now
and all I have left is raw emotion and coping
I'm not sure how to deal with either
when I've never really had to.
All my life has been spent repressing
everything in my wake
and now I feel as if it's all coming out-
everything that's ever made me sad
came flooding back when you left.
You're looking out at the window
to your life smiling and happy
when all I am left with is misery
and I thought I made you happy-
at least I tried my hardest to.
But it seems to me all I'll ever do
is let people down.
I push people away until I am left alone
and now I've never felt so lonely.
I've been trying to bandage this broken home
but putting into it my broken soul
and now there's no pieces to fill the cracks anymore
I am bleeding and faulting and withering away again-
there is no safe shaven for me
no peak I get to reach anymore
just me, broken and bleeding at the seems.
Nothing is ever as good as it seems
and I put on a hell of a facade.
But I'm even tired of that now..
Loving someone broken is hard
and all I've ever been is broken
and difficult and withering.
When will I flourish?
Maybe when someone remembers to water me.

I saw you today,
in the mirror behind me
you were there.
Stature strong and unrelenting-
I saw my innocence flash before my eyes.
Someone looked like you at work-
he smiled at me and said table for 3
my jaw clenching and my mind went blank.
My feet took a while to move
and I don't even remember what happened next.
Flashbacks followed by panic attacks
the man who stole my childhood
flooded my eyes over and over again.
I tried not to cry.
Not to let him ruin my day.
It wasn't him. It wasn't him.
It felt like him.
I clenched my fists
and let the memories flood my mind
I let them continue their journey
like it was a bad acid trip I had to get through-
my mind was making me feel everything again
and I hadn't felt that low in a while.
Repression was in my nature
and I painted a plain-pale happy face
for everyone who came into the door.
Table for 2-
2 months of flashbacks everyday at age 16
Table for 4 please-
4 years it took to cope with what happened to me.
Table for 7-
The age you took away my innocence.
When he finally left the memories were still there
the pain in my gut still demanded to be heard-
regurgitation of memories and my breakfast
all at the same time.
You have never left me.
The memory of you is still sharp inside my mind
every single day of my life
and I hate that you did this to me.
You took away my childhood
and you ******* my future too-
but I won't let you control me
won't let these emotions take a toll on me
because I'm tired of fighting these memories.
Good days can turn so quickly
just with the thought of you near me
in the musty basement
where the dark was your only friend-
and the sunlight from the cracked door
painted out my future for me on the floor
the dust particles made a slow silhouette
and danced through the air
My child-like mind at the time
had to focus on things like that
so I wouldn't realize the cruelty.
So now every time heartache or tragedy
follows me into the dark alleys of my mind-
I am reminded that is where I will find you
ready to steal my innocence again
like it's my lunch money
and I didn't think I could ever stop you
never thought the images of you would fade away
but I know they will one day-
when the heartache stops
and the pains reaches its peek
I will no longer be weak
and you will no longer be a dark alley corner
of my own mind.
I just have to find my sanity again-
some day I will find that little girl
and teach her how to love better
the kind without flashbacks
or anxiety ridden panic attacks
no fear of abandonment-
just love and helping hand.
One day I will find the scars
and the memories so ****** beautiful.
It is then I will realize I am beautiful too
no matter how many dark things
my mind must go through-
I am worthy of happiness.

I'm nearing the brink of insanity again
because as the days pass by
I can no longer get the thoughts of you
out of my mind-
I wonder when I will lose it.
Cave into the solitude I've always known
and end every tie I have with those around me.
See when you left-
the music stopped
and my hands stopped being able to write
these fingers would type and type
but no string of notes formulated.
I do not hear the bells anymore-
just the sound of a car crash
because everything feels like such a wreck.
I can't seem to dream about anything anymore
except for something relating to you
and I would like to think these
are all signs we should start running back-
that all we need in this life is each other again
but now I'm too afraid.
I've become scared and insecure since you left
but gained a facade thats hard to let go of.
Hiding my feelings was routine before you showed up
and reminded me what the good ones felt like-
until you showed me even you can cause
the bad ones too.
I always keep things inside
clinging to my repressive tendencies
I wish I never had to.
I feel lost-
I just hope you find yourself
and I hope you find your happy
I'm just sorry it couldn't be with me.
I'm sorry I keep searching
for pieces of you I will never find-
for signs that one day things will be different.
I just keep clinging on to a hope
that I'm not really sure I should.
But love just doesn't disappear
it crashes and burns.

What exactly does closure feel like?
I'm not really sure because
the days I felt my first heartache
like a bullet to my chest
I cried for a week straight then got over it-
I had so many friends, I never cared to love again.
I was never really sure how to close the open door
the day my grandma died my mind went blank.
So I drank away the pain until the images
of her cancer ridden body faded away.
How do you cope when at the same time
you see your grandmother die
you remember these horrors
from your childhood of someone ripping away
your innocence.
I haven't been the same since.
So now what's left?
I have left the one I love
with a heavy heart
and no closure to console me.
I just feel as if I am drifting
slowly and without a lifeboat
no paddle in merky waters
with a windstorm that won't quit.
But I feel at peace
like the calm before the storm
that realizes it will be sunny one day again soon.
So how will closure console this empty soul?
I've never really felt that feeling before.
Closure is a ******* step child to me-
just an extra sock that can't find a match.
A newly lit match burning out too fast
never to be used again.
A bowl filled with resin
when all you need is one ******* hit.
Closure is a seesaw with no one at the other end to help-
you're on your own adventure
and you only venture from the usual path.
It's a road you walk alone-
barefoot upon rocks that have been shaped from struggle.
Closure is the progression into solitude.
So how do I get closure from you?
How do these hands feel okay again
not holding on to yours-
how does my bed feel whole again
without you next to me.
I'm not sure quite yet-
but one day I will see.
Closure is an empty room
before a dance recital
it's a preconcert soundcheck
and everyday anxiety.
The nights are worse than the days
and I've come to grips with feeling this way.
I hope one day to feel okay.
I know one day I will feel okay-
because today, I feel pretty okay.