you are the person I can’t wait to hate.
you are the algae in the pond in which I wait,
and you are beautiful until the water gets too cold
and my fingers are pruned from your fog and excretions,
and secretions and ghastly rasping breath.

I am the needles that knit your hair into words
I am the darkness in which you sob
I am the tunnel through which you grasp for light
and I will be left behind

and that’s okay
and that’s alright
it’s okay to be happy in the moment
it’s okay to be able to smile for a moment
it’s okay it that moment will end
it’s okay that the smile will soon drown in tears
it’s okay it’s alright

how can I convince
myself
that happiness is worth the sorrow in the end.