Mayday's Poems

Inside My Mind

They told me happy was a decision.
But sometimes I feel like I missed that proposition.
If I could I'd gladly go.
To someplace that I could truly call home.
If they don't care, why should I?
As if all I could do is just curl up and cry.
Yes, I talk to my friends online.
It's the only thing to do, to pass the time.
Maybe I'm just lazy.
Or maybe I'm even crazy.
I feel everything and nothing at the same time.
Like all my emotions fly by.
They fly by like leaves in the wind.
It's not really something I can mend.
My world feels like it's falling apart.
Every time I try, I wind up back at the start.
At this point, it's too much to ask me to care.
I feel as if I'm about break beyond repair.
As if they, the people I hold dear, were never there.
Is happy still a decision?
Can I please make that decision?
When I try to, it's as if I'm just holding a pin-pricked egg.
It goes as soon as it comes, no matter how much I beg.
It's a high fever, that will either break or kill me.
I'm constantly tired, even when I sleep.
The dreams of happiness, I can never keep.
Sometimes I wonder "Would anyone notice?"
If I disappeared without a trace.
Would they cry and wish they could take my place?
Would they be sad knowing they weren't there?
Or would life go on as if they didn't care?
I take pride in how far I've come.
Only to realize, I still feel alone.