Long red sleeved shirt
Sometimes it feels impossible
Truly impossible
To maintain, regulate, and sustain
Joy.

Happiness.
A little event here, a word spoken by this person
Perhaps not with ill intention
But I just wanted to come home tonight
And bring pie.

Ain't nothin' bad
Its all fine
But sometimes my chest
The butterflies that were so eloquently flying
Spinning and releasing colors of beauty
Longevity, strength, courage
Its as if a single slicing sound
Resounded so loudly
That every person that claimed they were this or that
Never picked up a pen or a camera
A script
And did what they so prolifically claimed
They do.

Maybe I'm secretly too ******* others sometimes
Just as I was reminiscing about where I was at this time
Last year
I can't control or maintain
Anyone else's ******* happiness
And I don't know why humans
Take or project their own insecurities on others
But I am conscious of my words, my tone
My language.

However.
I was sitting on the bed with the new man last night
As he told me a story or two
And in my high state, there was this small part of me
That wanted to treat him like he was less than
Probably because he is a man
And I have been so deeply, deeply hurt
By so many of them.

I don't know what the eff it means
And I'm not gonna bank on anything
But I free myself from thoughts of my past lover
Who threw, no hurled
My heart into the gutter
So for Christ's sake
Don't remind me of him
More than I already ******* do.

I was waiting for the bus tonight
After drinking 3 glasses of wine
I just wanted to bring home pie.

Why is joy the hardest entity to sustain?