i was just thinking.
maybe the whole world
isn’t as depressing
as it is made out to be,
maybe the universe
isn’t drenched in the blood
of every person who has ever
died.

maybe we all just keep on
living, through the bad parts,
through the good parts,
an endless cycle of beautiful
honey tinted color.

maybe it’s all pretty, sparkly,
jeweled and rhinestone covered,
and all of my depressing poems
are completely bogus,
and the world can be given
the benefit of the doubt.