Wishing for sleep but realizing there is no other place I would rather be,
An anchor tied to the feet of a man who only knows how to embrace everything when it is thrown at him,
Exhausted, I guess you could say that,
But it is this lack of knowing how to deal with surviving, repeating the words, "I'm trying, I'm trying" over and over until is the last thing he knows how to say to himself without self hatred,

I am alive, yes, I am alive

This ship is a sinking ******* but my god I'll tie the ropes to the cliffs and pull myself ashore,
When it comes to being happy, really, I'm not sure,
I guess I need to stop making it seem like being happy is a chore,

For the last seven months and three weeks, I have been beaten down and choked out of what I have every right to see,
I have every right to be

Happy

I have every right to
Breathe,
****,
Fight,
Light,
This cigarette and smoke away the stress I am incapable of getting rid of myself

I am handicapped

No, not in the sense of being broken,
No, not in the sense of being unable,

Stable: not likely to change or fail,
My attitude will change and my ambitions will change,
But I will not fail,

Being frail is something I am used to,
Being weak is something I am used to,
If I keep telling myself I am not used to being happy, I will never be happy

I want to be happy,
I want to sleep without nightmares,
I want to wake up and want to,

I want to be happy

If I keep telling myself I am sad, I will never be..

*Happy