Is it wrong to be happy?
To not feel guilt about it?
I can't remember the last time
I wanted so badly to climb
It's late and I should be asleep
Not watching Blair Waldorf
Realise she and Chuck are cut
From the same cloth.
Why am I happy?
When school is just around the corner?
When I ruined my chance of love?
Maybe I should just take it
Take it like a child a present
Though I know it'll pass
Like last month before
I fall into despair again.
Maybe I've been numb
And watching something dumb
Has reminded me
How happy I can be.
Maybe it's the homework stress gone
Or the chocolate I had
Maybe I'm finally growing up
Ready to make plans
Lists and check boxes.
This totally makes no sense
And I hear you as I type
But what the hell is this happiness?
My hobbies are exciting once more
I don't think my friends hate me
I don't seem so pessimistic
Maybe even optimistic
Perhaps for the first time in a while
My life seems normal.
No sibling distraught with learning
No mother in pain
No father with annoying co-workers
Just me, and me
Me and my feelings
Ones I can separate and segregate
Manageable and hidden.
Now everyone tells me that
Bottling things up is bad
Yet here I am, standing
My wrong emotions gone
Without talking to an adult
Without talking to a friend
Without talking to a stranger
Who doesn't know my first name.
Some people prefer to share
Yet I will stay as I am, for I prove
That it can work.
YOU ARE READING
Certainty Of Midnight
Poetryemotion ɪˈməʊʃ(ə)n/ noun a strong feeling deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others. A snippet of a teenage girl's mind. Excuse the hormonal anger. I started this book when I was thirteen or fourteen. I publish, unpublish...
