For those of you
incapable of happiness,
hang in there.
As without us
the world would be
an even sadder place.
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For those of you
incapable of happiness,
hang in there.
As without us
the world would be
an even sadder place.
Plumes de Palo Santo
Today carry my worries
Up, up, y away
Nothing feels good tonight.
Nothing sits well.
Nothing but myself and beer
to drown away my very American illusion
of happiness—my dear, I’m not sorry.
Please understand.
We lose—only—what we must
allow ourselves to lose,
regardless of the pain
and suffering we choose, to lose
and to gain—
to have what it takes,
to further ourselves
to a better tomorrow.
The only road block
between yourself
and happiness,
is you.
Happiness &
Sadness
bleed
into one
single
droplet, which
slowly
falls
from cheek
to chin, while
the sun sets
and small houses
glow
I’m reminded
it’s not over
yet —
silent is the night —
it’s still
so
far
from
the beginning.
Was she ever happy
or was she just pretending?
Was I?
I agree to disbelieve any such questions.
Foolish notions.
I’ve given it far too much energy
to accept such nonsense
and far too little to concede.
What a crime to disregard our time
together no matter how wild
or foot-dragging it was.
I may be a fool but I’m not a foolish fool.
A pity? No.
We were glorious in our infancy
and though covered in blood and tears
marvelous in our dying days.
So many histories
So many lives
cherished
and now
this.
Confusion
with a thirst
of stale bitterness
is no reason
to poison someone’s
happiness.
My bad.