The joy is a pretty girl
young and beautiful
who laughs at your jokes
and thinks the world of you;
while in secret
you wonder why in the world
she thinks of you at all.

The magic is dreaming of a silver haired woman
with loving eyes
that still long for you
the same way they do now;
eyes that spurn everything
because to her you are everything.

The pain is cutting yourself shaving and hoping it never stops
because she really was the world
and now that she’s gone
you can’t think of a
single reason
to stop the bleeding.

The trick is learning that happiness isn’t a face
it’s a joke
it’s an afternoon
it’s a kick in the nuts from a friend
who is sick of your bitching.

And the wonder of everything
isn't that she loved you
or how easily she stopped;
it's simply
that she happened at all.