Your happiness.

The happiness you hand out is fleeting. It feels plastic and mass-produced. Made in China. It is brittle and easily broken. So easily. It is transparent, and still would be even if there were depth to it at all. Thin and sticky as toffee, it clings and leaves a noticeable mark. A mark that stains. It leaves a taste in the mouth, sour and at times over-sweet. It is tinny and always stuck on repeat. One wonders if it ever was, is, or will be real...

Happiness. Joy. Pleasure. Cheer. Glee. Delight. Ecstasy.

A kiss.

Want to take your jaw into my hands,
And catch your breath between my teeth,
Make you open your mouth,
And let the words on the tip of my tongue,
Trace the shape of your lips.

Backseat.

You're the emptiness of the seat beside me.
An itch where my fingers grasp empty air.
The flash of a streetlight into shadow.
A yearning for something that just isn't there.

Mess.

Fighting back the tears,
That sting and burn my eyelids,
From exhaustion, anger, grief,
And all I know is,
I just have to get through this next day.

Shimmer.

Is it really true
That everything that shimmers
In this world
Will fade
I'd like to believe
That the sun of a smile
Will always shine
Even if it's just
In my own orbit
And that the murmur
Of some voice
Will always turn my head
Sending shivers down my spine
Putting a sparkle
In my eyes
Even if it's not always you
That puts it there.

There's 7 billion people in this world, so why are we so scared of being alone?

Doing my thing.

I got a new pen today.

Oh yes, I did.

In time.

Sometimes. Time moves so fast, it scares me. Then other times. I look back and time hasn't changed at all. I watch the hands of the clock move the seconds of time away. I panic. Where is time going? I look again at the clock and only a minute has passed. I think about the seconds that count and the ones that don't. Or do they all, and I've just never noticed...?