the privateers

In the passing months, my words have become less teenage

less dramatic, hereby in the moment

I’m cyclical, like the seasons,

my happy and my sad come and go on their own free will.

sometimes I think I should name them

but maybe this ‘happy’ is here to stay

It’s strange to go this long without a fit

without fitful midnight tears, paralyzing anxiety,

and to just be me, as it was meant to always be

my words are less interesting, less contrast in their meaning

but they are what I have evolved into

I’m going to start writing more happy things.

and the fact that I want to do this, makes me happy at my very core.