Happiness Is a Myth To Me

Even though you were in them for mere hours your scent still lingers on my sheets. And the felonious kisses haunts my lips Tell me, How can happiness be wrong? You see, his clothes and his clothes are still placed around my room- so when I'm at my happiest I'm reminded that he hurt me or that I hurt him. But although my capacity to care for others is ever shrinking. I don't think it's bad. My advice to everyone I help is put your happiness first. Yet every time they have I get pushed away thrown away or left behind. And when I try to put my happiness first I get pushed away thrown away or left broken But in a world that's taught me I'm never good enough, in a world that's forced teenagers to grow up, in a world where the voices make me want to die, your messy kisses, bad timing and jokes make me feel alive. And how can it be wrong if I'm happy? How can it be wrong if you're happy? Yeah I get it: He wants me back, but I refuse to hurt so he can be happy. She wants you, but I refuse to suffer just so she can smile. So for once- just once can what we want, what feels right, what makes us happy, come first?