Sometimes,
I suppose I am
happy.
Like when I am
with my friends,
Throwing my head
back and covering my mouth
As I shake with
laughter
At a joke
someone just made
But then day
turns to night
And my carefree
grin turns into an unexplainable sadness,
Etched on my
face like a tattoo.
And I lay in
bed,
Thinking about
all the things I wish I could say,
All the things I’m too afraid to admit,
Even with only
pen and paper and mind.
It’s night like
these when I realize :
I am many
things.
I am happy and sad,
Outgoing and
shy,
Rambunctious and
quiet.
But mostly,
I am just
empty