Am I happy,
Or am I someone that holds a fake happiness?

My happiness,
Is rather a mixed drink of other emotions as well.

I am dancing on stones,
Some of those stones are sharp;
There cutting into my skin, leaving scars to prove that they were there.

I keep on dancing on this happiness,
That keeps cutting into me and questioning me.
I am dancing with a old drink called happiness,
And its the one devouring me.