[x]A happy poem.

i've never written a happy poem
sometimes I forget
that not everyone can read my subtleties
my subtitles
i'm a walking thesausus of hurt
with a million ways to express pain
the voice i've found was more out of necessity than desire
here i am, the elitist and the snob
when it comes to being my own worst critic
i sit trying to write something nice for her
frustrated because all of a sudden i'm in love
and nothing I say feels good enough
my IQ feels cut in half
knowing that that dark things i've written
are almost surgical in their precision
but in this case, i feel like such a blunt object
that i can almost feel myself drooling
as i struggle for the right words
which feel like they haven't been invented yet
and it saddens me to realize
that happiness is not a language that i ever learned to speak
my life up to this point has been one hell of a story
(at least to me)
but a rough draft nonetheless
i feel like i'm a notebook
full of post its, and fill in sheets of paper
edits, omissions and alterations over time
as living and breathing as perspective permits
where things shift from prologue to epilogue and back again
on a day to day basis
god help me if i ever need an editor
to make sense of all of this
this absolute chaos of my thoughts
the book of me is bound in rubber bands
and i hold it up to her
i tell her i never write in a linear fashion
hell, i've never lived in a linear fashion
but yet somehow here i am
for her i'm ready to turn the page
to a nice new blank sheet
for the first time in a long time
which i am staring at when i write these words
this is our story now
and i wish i had better words for you
to somehow quantify this change
normally i feel like i've got my back to a wall
with the lights going out
yet when i think of you, even so far away
it all seems inconsequential
i feel like the possibilities are endless
like the world is wide open and bright and new again
you'll never understand the gravity in me saying this -
i've never written a happy poem
but for you i want to try