Happy People

Happy People long poem

Photo by Guilherme Yagui

There’s something about the feeling i get, when i’m lying on my shower floor slumped down, looking at the water travelling down my body
as if the water will wash away my identity,
my sins and insecurities
that it is so hot it will burn all the fat off my bones till there’s nothing left but perfection
a feeling of numbness, an out of body experience, i am not here, i am no where to be found
people don’t see my vulnerable tears,
the water overpowers them.
people don’t hear my cries for help,
the sound of running water suppresses them.
however.
i have been gone too long as it is, mother might begin to worry
i would not want her to feel
as if this is her fault
people don’t need to know
the humiliation would be too much i wouldn’t want to burden
others with my cries.
i can handle this, i can
i tell myself as i get dressed
not looking at my body
putting my make-up on from a distance so i won’t have to see what i look like, up close.
the last thing i put on,
is a smile,
because that is what happy people do, right? they smile.

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