the happy bug,
he bites me every morning.
the alarm clock glares
at my shiny, unwashed face
like the masses of
unhappy and disgruntled teenagers
in the sophomore hallway
to whom my happiness is
a bloodthirsty mosquito,
buzzing quaintly in their ears, refusing
to be swat down.
i keep the happy bug
in my pocket all day,
to give me a pinch when i frown.
dissheveled, angry girls and boys
with acne scars and broken hearts.
today, i chose the happy bug.
you chose insect repellent.
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