I don’t know

what happiness

looks like on me

and I don’t know

what color

laughter should be

but you have the ability

to sweep me off my feet

so I get nervous

when we’re

walking down the street

cause we’re hand-in-hand

and I’ve got my cue

to lean on over

and whisper to you

the secrets that

are weighing

in on my mind

but the words

are exceedingly

difficult to find

cause my

lack of faith

stands exactly beside me

and it never wavers

from what I can see

so even if

my secrets

were easy to speak

you’d grow bothered

and weary

and your knees

would get weak

and you’d hate me

for trying

to know happiness on me

and guessing

what color

laughter should be.