Happiness

my chest inhabits colorful page

after page

of backpacking through weeks worth of

flowers

of sitting alone with my head in my sunburnt hands

squinting my eyes against suffocating rainfall,

thinking to myself

dammit, this sucks.

of laying in this sleeping bag

who's zipper broke off long ago

staring at the cosmo

remembering all the faces i left behind.

inside of my chest my heart yearns

for loneliness.

my ribs hold it back,

a petty fight between heart

and head.

my chest inhabits colorful page

after page

of months sucked dry of anger

or of sadness

but replaced with

plentiful grasses and trees and

wind so fucking cold

i wish i had gone to college

so i could afford that nice coat

but at least mine smells like myself

and inside of it,

i am home

swept away with a current of

expectation

carrying me far

from second guessing.

my happiness has always been freedom

my passions have always been

watered down with

paychecks and

fast food and

trips to the free clinic but

my ribcage will grow frail

and spill out my guts

unless the heart does not want what the heart wants

but everyone knows

it fucking does.