i think that the most damaged people in the world
are the kindest
and the softest

because they know
that scabs can be picked
and you can bleed

i am gentle
my edges are rough
my hands are calloused
my hearts ached enough
i sit in silence almost every night
and stare at the ceiling and ask
am i actually "living", am i doing this right
my eyes dart back and forth
as i try to decide, "what am i worth"

and sometimes i hold more value than gold-
my mind tells me i am a spitfire

while others
my value is that of a single grain of sand on the beach

im---
im done.

i am gentle
because i have cuts that are hidden
but you never see them bleed

im "the happy friend"

the "happy friend" isnt supposed to rely on drugs for happiness

the "happy friend" isnt supposed to wake up everyday, and wish they still were dreaming

the "happy friend" isnt supposed to be the mediator of family fights

the "happy friend" isnt supposed to avoid looking at themselves at certain angles

the "happy friend" isnt supposed to constantly **** in their tummy- making sure they're still paper thin

the "happy friend" isnt supposed to lay in bed- tears welling in their eyes

the "happy friend" isnt supposed to feel the constant weight of the universe resting on their chest

why would i feel that

after all

i am the "happy friend"

my 5 seconds of fame will be when my face is printed on the page of my yearbook

5 seconds of reflection and admiration, until the eye moves to look at the square next to me.

5 seconds that were so hard to earn, but so easy to spend.