You’re not sad, that’s what you feel.
It may be a chemical imbalance; maybe a bottle of jack.
You can’t remember when the happiness felt real.
You want the sunshine back.
Just like my stuffy nose I know this will end,
Because I am not sad, that is not something I can comprehend.
I am not the things I feel or the words I say because that’s not what my body shows.
I am my actions and my space as my heart begins to plateau.
You’re not so two dimensional despite the lies you let yourself believe.
To let the world hold your worth so tight is something so naïve.
You are not your sadness or your anger or pride,
You are more than the hell raging somewhere deep inside.
I am more than this poem.
I am more than what I’m willing to show them.