Why does Happiness feel so uncomfortable?
A beautiful shoe that just won’t fit.
Either too narrow
or the arch is not right–
my toes are squished,
the top is too tight.

It’s not that Happiness
is an unwelcome guest;
I pine for her in a season of blue.
But once she shows up,
she’s just an uncomfortable shoe.

Why does Sadness,
seem to fit just right?
There’s an ache in my belly,
yet my feet feel so light.

He’s ugly, he’s hungry,
he’s a black hole.
Sadness, fits fine-
yet costs an empty soul.

I want the sparkly heels,
and all of the feels,
I want to be deserving
of the happiest meals.

But no.
She’s too big.
Or too small,
or all wrong.
Happy just doesn’t
seem to be my song.

Happy is healthy,
happy is bright.
Sadness is draining,
takes all my fight.

He humbles me, haunts me.
He hounds me, taunts me.

She beckons me, emboldens me.
Approaches, but won’t hold me.

Oh, beautiful shoe,
If you only knew—
the lengths I’d go,
down roads painted in blue.

I’m happy. I am.
But wearing sullen shoes.
Colored in black,
and dripping in goo.

Why does Happiness feel so uncomfortable?
For me, unlike you?
Is sadness the only picture
my pencil has drew?

I’ll take off these shoes.
I’ll slip off my dress.
I’ll lay down with sadness,
the unwanted guest.

And Happiness will smile,
she’ll hold out her hand.
And hopefully welcome me
on to her land.