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I'm happy, but don't tell anyone,
I have to keep it a secret from myself
especially, I know I'll ruin it,
sabotage myself into thinking
it's either not real, or it's tainted
by the what-ifs or the could've beens
that lurk like animated shadows
waiting to hug me and win me over,
but I am trying not to let them
because right now, this very minute,
I'm okay, and I'm happy, and I'm safe,
and there's a cloud around me
protecting me, separating me.
Please don't tell anyone.
You must've. It's gone. How can I trust
you now? How can I trust anyone?
I can't even trust myself.
My happiness is gone. I just had it.
And it's gone.
You know what would make me happy?
Being me, fully, and not caring
what anyone else thought,
and being happy being crazy,
being wild, doing whatever I wanted.
I can get there, but then it's time
for bed, and everyone's asleep.
I had it once.
Maybe I held it too tight,
maybe I didn't love it enough,
maybe I never wanted it to begin with,
and maybe it wasn't my fault,
but it was nice while it lasted.
I'll spend the rest of my life looking
for it in all the wrong places.
© 2014 Nicholas Emeigh
Read by the Author
Part of the group "Record-A-Poem," and part of the Playlist "The Poetry of Nicholas Emeigh" which includes 40+ other poems.
Notes: This poem was written on Friday, February 14, 2014. It's about the way I am with happiness. Or the way happiness is with me. It's fleeting.
The unique works displayed on the pages herein are © 1997-2013 Nicholas Emeigh. Use is restricted.
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