The dedication to happiness is exhausting.
Joy is even harder.
There is a point where it is dragged along your spine,
and slowly tears every layer of skin away.
Happiness, not joy.
Joy is rare, but in the moment it feels eternal.
Happiness is not the same.
It feels temporary.
It's similar to new years,
Counting down 10...9...8...7...6
And then it's over.
Then comes the struggle of achieving it again.
Desperation is sad,
Therefore I am.

That moment of consciously deciding to be happy again is grand.
I haven't been ready for months.
Those moments where my smile illuminated the rest of the world.
Everything was okay.
Dark grins and dark clothes.
The effort is there grasping and begging to be the star
Front centre.
It will be my joy