Write a happy poem—
Pull the splinter from under my nail and bleed optimism
A clown to perform to the mantras of success
Therapy an art form of which I am too perfect

Write a happy poem—
One where the butterflies in my stomach don’t die
And the night doesn’t creep in behind my eyes
And the black sea flood my cheeks

Write a happy poem—
With posies and poppies without the ashes and overdoses
With sunshine and warm soup that doesn’t scald skin
And a cherry and sprinkles on top, gluttony a sin

Write a happy poem—
Depression leaves my body if I smile hard enough in the mirror
my teeth cracking
Shattered enamel pricking my gums

Write a happy poem—
Ground myself with 5 things I see, 4 things I hear, all the numbers to keep me here
I get too lost in the daze that I forget to keep counting

Write a happy poem—
Pull the string of lies from my lips and my heart out by the hook
My catch of the week another intrusive thought so big it could feed a village

Write a happy poem—
Write a happy poem—
Please, write a happy poem.

Glass tears can sparkle in the sunlight when hung from windows
My shattered childhood a stain glass window depicting the martyr of a man
I am a poet drowning in “I wish my mother was a mom” and “I wish I was better” poems that
I don’t know if I know how to write a happy poem—

Open the curtains, look at the sunrise and mourn the death of night
Things are only ever endings so how could I possibly
Begin to write a happy poem
Knowing it will end.

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Wesley Orion (he/him) is a queer, trans, and neurodiverse writer who lives and works in the Columbus area. He writes to empower his voice and the voices of others with a focus on fostering a space of pure ambition, representations of adversity, and the unity of storykeepers.

Instagram: @wesleyorionwrites