write happy.

happy.
happy is the term called carefree.
happy is the word without worry.
happy is a shout into the deepest depths of the world singing
happy-go-lucky "i don't care!"

i dont really like happy.
i feel like happy is just something i can reach for but it's too high up so

i cant reach it.
i like to sit on the floor and stare up at it and think about how far away

it is and how i'll never reach it.
i dont want to reach it.
i like the ground.
it's hard as rock, sharp as nails, and uncomfortable.
i find a way to sleep there.
sleep is a wonderful thing.
it's like taking a stroll with death every night.
talking to him about how much pain there is in living.
death understands.
he's neutral.
i dont know if i want to join death quite yet.
he seems like a nice guy.
i've known him for a while.
he makes sad things happen, though.
he made my dad cry.
i've made my dad cry, too.
i am a sad thing.
sometimes i think i really belong with death.
a lot of people think of death as a horrible thing.
i think it's okay.
it has to happen.
it's a natural, neutral thing.
i see death a lot.
death is neither happy, nor sad.
he is not carefree, or angry.
death exists, but only to people who want him to be there.
maybe he's my imaginary friend.

so you want me to write happy.
i don't know happy.
happy doesn't exist anymore.
it did once, but it ran away from me.
hid in the stars.
in the treetops.
happy is scared of me.
happy gets attacked by my guard dogs.
i am afraid of happy.
happy always pulls me away from the ground.
i dont want to fall again.
i've fallen so many times.
so writing happy -
i cant write happy.
i'm too afraid that happy will drop me again,
but this time i'll crack.
this time i'll meet up with my imaginary friend.