Is This Happy?
Today,
nothing terrible happened.
Suspicious.
I waited for the plot twist,
but the sun just sat there,
warm and stupid,
like it loved me.
How does one be happy?
Does it look like
not being snappy?
What is being glad
supposed to look like?
A little less mad?
A little less sad?
What does it look like
to be joyful?
Nothing rhymes with joyful.
That’s not helpful.
Maybe happiness
doesn’t need
to look like anything.
Maybe it doesn’t need
confetti,
a punchline,
or proof.
Maybe it just sits there,
warm and stupid,
until you stop
asking questions.
I didn’t.
It stayed anyway.
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