Happiness
my chest inhabits colorful page
after page
of backpacking through weeks worth of
flowers
of sitting alone with my head in my sunburnt hands
squinting my eyes against suffocating rainfall,
thinking to myself
dammit, this sucks.
of laying in this sleeping bag
who's zipper broke off long ago
staring at the cosmo
remembering all the faces i left behind.
inside of my chest my heart yearns
for loneliness.
my ribs hold it back,
a petty fight between heart
and head.
my chest inhabits colorful page
after page
of months sucked dry of anger
or of sadness
but replaced with
plentiful grasses and trees and
wind so fucking cold
i wish i had gone to college
so i could afford that nice coat
but at least mine smells like myself
and inside of it,
i am home
swept away with a current of
expectation
carrying me far
from second guessing.
my happiness has always been freedom
my passions have always been
watered down with
paychecks and
fast food and
trips to the free clinic but
my ribcage will grow frail
and spill out my guts
unless the heart does not want what the heart wants
but everyone knows
it fucking does.