Happy

There she is — the abyss.

Sinking deep, my hands and feet are bound.

I’m not scared of this dark,

This is not the first time I’ve drowned.

Making my bed on the bottom of the oceans floor,

Until my lungs cave in, and all air cascades towards my eyes.

Finally there I lay, with no intention of floating towards the surface.

What would the point of that be?

Why not let myself be known,

As the girl who cried so much her river turned into a sea,

Eventually, drowning herself in her own misery.

What a pitiful story that would be, for a girl as happy as me.