It’s bright green, and has ‘Happiness’ printed on the front.
And the first thing I wrote in it, was a poem about Happiness.
Forever trying to define it,
forever searching, striving, scraping
the bottom of every box
labelled with something that sounds like happiness.
Friends, Food, Parties, Clothes, Sex, Love, Money, Success.
Family. A home. Health. A brain.
Forever frantically googling it,
as if my mind were telling me:
You’re not happy!
Forever living in fear that I won’t know
when I’ve found it,
and then I’ll lose it
as quickly as it came.
Filling my walls, my books, my mind
with the quotes I’m desperate to believe in.
Forever telling my fragile soul
that it comes from within,
like she doesn’t already know.
Finding fresh thoughts to erupt,
forever fighting this journey of self-love.
I’ll get there, I swear.
Forever feels like a very long time
but as my days pass I’m making my own
forever and before
it passes me by
let me be present.
Let me be calm.
Let me be happy