by D.A. Baker
Science suggests I’ll never feel happy
Because I’m chemically imbalanced irreparably.
In my brain, serotonin doesn’t secrete normally.
When it does, it does so manically.
I have to medicate and tame my thoughts daily.
I take these pills to help me fall asleep,
And another four during the day for anxiety.
But when science says I’ll never really be happy,
I say to science, fuck you, respectully.
Because I’ve felt happiness within me.
I’ve seen, with new perspective, the way sunlight bounces off the trees,
Felt the wind blow across the ocean with a breeze.
I’ve taken pride in my accomplishments and what I’ve worked to achieve.
I’ve seen the raw beauty hiding in something filthy.
I’ve felt love, and I felt it just as deeply,
Felt the jitters of a first date making me queasy.
I’ve felt the warm embrace of a newborn baby,
And I’ve flown across the world to wander in a different city.
In my mind, there’s a kaleidoscope of breathtaking imagery,
Which I utilize and transform into all types of art and poetry.
My mood disorders and fluctuates chaotically,
To the point I question the end of my sanity,
But through it all, I’ll swear to you I’m not crazy,
The undertow I get caught in is only temporary.
As for the science, well, I’m waiting for an alternate theory,
Because nobody should tell me I can’t be happy.