Spare me the white lies that are little drops of shit rolled in sugar.
I held you when you were frightened, your tears and snot soaking my shirt because you were a child again, lost, frightened and real.
You once asked me what I valued most and I said, “Honesty” with firm and instant conviction.
I would rather have you swear in my face than lie to me with a smile.
I don’t know where our honesty went or when you decided that I was not worth being real with, sincere with, our honesty sliding from soulful communication to this sickening game of “happy.”
What is “happy” that it should supplant authenticity, reality and truth?
I don’t wear “happy” like a badge to hide my humanity.
I don’t wear “happy” to hide the reality that shit happens.
I don’t wear “happy” as a shield that screams, “I’m good with God so please don’t notice the chinks in my faith.”
I’ve seen your soul; I’ve seen it shine in real joy, glimmer in the light of real laughter, letting authentic “happy” shimmer like jubilant fire flies around you.
I’ve seen you shine and called you “sunshine,” so bright was your funny that just being near you made me “happy.”
Wag your tail sister, it was made to wag.
Let’s be real again, authentic and honest.
I miss your sparkle.