Joy

Nervous, but so calm on the surface
I’ve gotten good at acting and keeping my cool
Patient; but I’m sick of being vacant
It’s out of my hands but it’s taking a toll
And in my head, I keep saying to myself
That I am happy in my skin and I’ve figured myself out
It feels like every time joy finds me
I spit in its face and walk away
Then isolate my being
A brain that’s overflowing with negativity
Usually has trouble welcoming a good thing
Stop looking for distractions
You’re never happy anyway, you know
Disengage with temporary substance in the hope
That something changes soon, although you know it won’t
Cause in my head, I keep saying to myself
That I am happy in my skin and I’ve figured myself out
Cause it feels like every time joy finds me
I spit in its face and walk away
Then isolate my being
A brain that’s overflowing with negativity
Usually has trouble welcoming a good thing