sometimes

Sometimes, I suppose I am happy. When I am with my friends, throwing my head back and covering my mouth as I shake with laughter at a joke someone just made.

But then the day turns to night and my carefree grin turns into an unexplainable sadness.

I lay in bed thinking about all the things I wish I could say, all the things I'm too afraid to admit, even with only pen, paper, keyboard, and mind.

It's nights like these when I realize I am many things. I am happy and sad, outgoing and shy, rambunctions and quiet.

But mostly, I am empty.