The Path to Happiness


The path to happiness

Is not a paved road.

Nothing so supreme,

So incredible,

So desired,

Is that easy.

Instead, I find myself traveling over

An old wooden bridge.

The outdated wood is held together by

Rusty, aged nails.

Each step I take erupts another

Terrifying creak from the boards.

Do I dare keep going?

They always tell you,

“Don’t look down.”

But how can you not look down

When you’re about to plummet into the abyss?

I need to know what I’m risking here

On this old, worn out bridge.

With each step,

I imagine how many

Have stepped here before.

Each scuff,

Each mark,

Each breath I take,

Repeating history.

I stop looking down for two seconds

And look forward.

Ahead, there’s an animated picture playing;

Dora the Explorer smiling, waiting,

Scaring the shit out of me like she always has.

Is that what happiness looks like?



And then tell me I did it,


Happiness is terrifying.

I stop looking forward,

And instead look back.

There’s a cloud of smoke behind me.

It smells like my boyfriend’s vape juice.

Which smells pretty damn good, if you ask me,

And when it’s not in my face,

I miss it.

That cloud is just so


What if I just go back,

Just for five more minutes?

I take a step back.

The boards creak.

I hear Siri screaming,

“Proceed to the route!!!”

Shut up Siri. I’ve got this.

One step back,

Another step back,

Until I’m back where I was one year ago.

Is it that easy to go back?

The cloud encompasses me

In a thick swirl

Of overwhelming anxiety.

This doesn’t feel as good as it did

Last year.


I don’t like this.

The fire felt nice in my head

Until I touched it with my hand.

I stop for a minute,

Look around me.

Dora isn’t there anymore.

In fact, I can’t see anything clearly anymore.

What is this shit?

Where do I go?

How do I go?

What did I do??

I look down,

And I see the old wooden bridge

With outdated wood

Held together by rusty, aged nails.

And I start again.

-Thursday September 8, 2016


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