Empty Happiness

“I feel like putting arsenic in my coffee” I say to myself. Knowing that just one sip it’d all be over. Sadly I have none. I sit there in trembling from my own thoughts. I rock back and forth uncontrollably I’ve lost the ability to answer a question. “How are you?” they ask, All I do is mutter incoherent babble. “Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine,” All I’ve been able to say over and over again like a damaged record.  Shattered is a better description of how I feel. Over and over he tells me “It’ll be okay man. I was in your spot two years ago, I understand how you feel. You just need time” No I don’t he has no clue how I feel. Goddamnit all how i wish i had that poison.

I play my music louder and louder into my own head in hopes that it blocks out my own thoughts but no matter how loud, it’s maxed out now, it doesn’t work. I decide to visit reality. All the pain rushes back. Suddenly I see blood. I don’t remember why I’m bleeding, but I don’t mind. It’s almost comforting. I just sit there and stare at the red blot slowly creating trails of paint down my skin. It draws a word “Love” oh the irony. It stops. I admit I’m insane. Over and Over “Insane. Insane. Insane….” I lay awake glaring into the blackness of my room i can see myself dying inside. Happiness starting to become a rare virtue nearly extinct. He’s almost gone now, the happy me. I reach out and grab his ankle. I beg him to stay. He mouths the words “You’re a Monster now” and vanishes. Not void of emotion now because i can still cry and find my jar of fake smiles. He only ever comes back to me around her. I guess happiness just likes fucking with me that bastard. At least he was around enough that i can pretend he’s there for the sake of others.