I'm Actually A Happy Person

The generation made only of skin, bones, and that which can be injected into the first

So that we can make believe even after we’ve kissed adolescence goodbye
We can play pretend

Pretend that our reality is what we wish it were

Though we should be holding back a bitter, abrasive laugh

Should be finding it hilarious

How we make believe our reality is one thing

But through our actions we unceasingly choose to let our circumstances choose the shape and size of our world

How we act as though it is only logical that our past should define our present

But our present define our future?

“You just don’t understand”

As long as we aren’t drowning, we’ll let the ebb and flow of mundane living continue to wash over us, coming in,

Now out,

Rocking us gently back and forth

Now suffocating

Now letting us up to gasp for air

A lullaby so patient, so constant

We lose consciousness to the fact

That we’re slowly drowning

But so long as death doesn’t come before Friday,

We’ll peaceably be content to do no more than a little grumbling

And let that tide rock us to sleep

I’ve been told that time heals

But I’ve seen that this generation has none to spare