Happiness is the Only Mask I'm Wearing

despite all the pain that lay beneath my skin
i've pushed happiness into my body
like a baby mother wearing proud joy 
in the labor room, post-birth, in agony.

love has given me so many reasons to be broken
it has sailed my heart in the wilderness of anguish
& had clayed the surface of my heart into a valley of wound 
like a solved puzzle.

when i say, i'm happy 
it means: my body has befriended freedom like my forefathers of Liberia

my heart wears the joy they wore 
when they were freed from the jaws of slavery.

every morning,
depression wraps its breath around me
& sit at the edges of lips
hoping it'd be the first thing i taste,

but, when i drag my body into reality,

happiness flips through the pages of my skin & mind 
& brush away anything saddened or depressing

truth be told, 
when i was birthed,
my grandmother named me "Muna"
which means: happiness

because that's what i am.