happiness – So It Goes

I have:

a beautiful pair of lungs;
funny tan lines on the tops of my feet;
three happy plants on my windowsill;
a heart refusing to give up;
a bionic arm, or so I tell myself;
black nail polish on my right big toe;
a desire to be held;
ink that tells stories of who I am;
a mind that doesn’t stop whirring;
love;
bones saturated with music;
poetry books within reaching distance;
apocalyptic dreams;
two strong legs and a soft belly;
tea, always;

and yet …

It feels like something is missing;
I feel lost, as if my reflection isn’t me all the time;
I see two blue-grey round eyes,
but it’s as if I’m looking through some
trick glass;
I’m searching, searching for
happiness
in myself and with others,
but it’s hard to see sometimes;
and the laughing with tears,
perhaps, is my only outlet.

Do you ever feel forgotten?

It’s hard,
to feel like people see right through you;
to think,
it wouldn’t make a difference if I left;
to wait,
wanting someone, anyone, to acknowledge you.

(I)
I sat in silence,
having given all my energy up
to a conversation that never carried.

I don’t know what to do with it,
this feeling.
How do I call someone in
when they appear to not care?

Why do I continue to give energy,
if I receive none in return?

(II)
I sat, disconnected from them,
both by distance and phone static.
I had nothing to share,
feigning a pre-occupied brain
for the lack of substance.

What makes a relationship real?

Is it only showing up in the hard times?
Is it calling once a month to check in?
Is it this system that never changes?

Because I’ve tried, tried
to be more present.
But my presence isn’t the issue
when I am the only one there.

(III)
I see you see me,
but these words in my brain
can’t find you fast enough.

You show up, over and over again,
as I think I do for you,
yet there’s something missing.

It feels like there’s a kink in the hose,
a bubble in the syringe.

It must be me, right?
For my head is full of poison
that I don’t want you to hear;
for my heart is broken
in so many more ways
than you know.

One might tell you to turn inwards,
to find peace with self,
but isn’t happiness only real when shared?

Tag: happiness

And yet

March 29