Does sadness have a shape?

Is it your circle of friends that don’t exist?

The people you don’t really know but consider your friends
The people you consider your friends but don’t know your story
The people you say whose company you miss, but you really don’t

Is it the deafeningly empty square room of yours?

The corners that have always seen you try to isolate yourself
The walls that, if only they could speak, would talk about how you
destroy yourself
The door that remains closed even on times when you need help

Is it the diamond on your finger?

The forced reconciliation of two different paths
The symbol of apologies that repeat over and over
The overcompensation for a dream that won’t come true

No, sadness does not have a shape. Rather, it takes on a shape

It takes on the shape of your lover
The treasure whose light you slowly dim
The gift you don’t feel you deserve
The love that isn’t there anymore

It takes on the shape of your mother
The one who notices your loneliness but is wary to make the first move
The one who is lonely herself but isn’t strong enough to ask help from you
The one who works hard to pretend that solitude is comforting

It takes on the shape of you
The person who is grateful for short-lived happiness
The person who keeps trying to relate to strangers online
The person who tries, and tries hard

Does happiness have a shape?