As a child I was never a happy kid,
I seemed to leak happiness.
As if there were holes at my knees that drained me (now I get why I always liked myself from the knee down)
And sometimes someone stood under me and filled their cups with my happiness
Which in turn made me feel as if I was charged on happy.
But sometimes there was no one
And my happiness would make a puddle on the ground
And I would look down and think
"Oh, how beautiful".
Sometimes a few came close to me,
The ones I loved and they loved me.
And they hugged me so tight
Their bodies pressed against mine
That they plugged the holes and I would remain happy,
Sometimes choosing to prick my finger and let a few drops of happiness splatter my surroundings
And I would remember what I saw when I thought
"Oh, how beautiful"
Being an aesthetic.
But when they went away,
I would stare at the growing puddle at my feet again.
It seems that I have something broken broken in my head.
Everyone else seems to have a transmitter and no holes so they convert their happy into signals and make other people happy. Without leaking.
I can't.
I'm sorry.
But if I find someone who can make me everything,
Everywhere,
Then I would flow unto myself forever
And I would make the world happy for you
And all you would say is, "Oh, how beautiful."
